


Journey to Another Hell IV

by Feygan



Series: Journey to Another Hell [4]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Anita Blake
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, M/M, Mentions of canon non-con, Rape Recovery, Slash, vamp!Xander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feygan/pseuds/Feygan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A familiar face makes an appearance as a lackey of the Council, and he brings some friends with him. *SLASH* [Xander/Jean-Claude/Asher]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Curled up on a bench-seat, Xander wore an amused smile as he watched the show. There was always something so coolly thrilling about Jean-Claude lording it up over the other vamps. The rush of power and the thrust and burn of danger. Anything could happen at any time, but Jean-Claude was always the one in control.

Xander had always been kind of resentful of people telling him what to do. He really didn't enjoy being the second banana, having to do whatever the Master ordered of him. Sure, there had been fun violence and murder and death, but... he didn't do the submissive real well, that alpha in him rising to the surface with a burst of rage.

But there was something hot about Jean-Claude being the boss, all dominant and in-charge guy.

"While you are in MY city, you will show the proper respect." Jean-Claude glared at the mass of vampires in front of him. "You petitioned me for entrance into my domains and you will follow the rules that have been set or you will leave."

"What about him?" one of the bolder vampire girls asked, jerking a thumb at Xander.

"What about me?" Xander asked, sitting up in one smooth motion.

"He is a child Jean-Claude, but you allow him to disrespect you with everything that he does. We have known each other for a long time, but it is this boy that you lavish your love and attention on, and for what? He is a mindless thug with no grace whatsoever. He makes you look weak and feeble in the face of your enemies, yet it is to you that we turn for protection? How can you protect us when all of the other masters of the world are laughing at you behind your back?" She gave a derisive snort. "You should get rid of the boy, or at least put him in his place."

Xander turned to Jean-Claude, whose face was an expressionless mask. "Do you want me to handle this?" he asked.

Jean-Claude gave a single nod of his head, and that was it.

Xander blurred into motion. One second he was comfortably seated on the bench, his muscles loose and lazy. The next he was across the room, slamming hard into the female vampire and riding her body to the floor, a manic grin stretching his lips. This was what he lived for, or unlived for, whatever.

Looming over her, larger than life, he felt that rush of power that only the best violence brought. "Hey chickie, what's up with you?" he giggled, an oddly high-pitched sound.

She glared at him and began jerking her arms and legs, her eyes going wide with surprise when she found that even with her preternatural vampire strength, she couldn't unseat him. "Get off me, you brute, or I will skin you alive."

"That's what I like in a good bitch," he cooed, "a bit of the fire. I bet you're a tiger in the sack, all clawing fingernails and gnashing of teeth, yeah?" He leaned forward and licked his tongue across her cheek. "Um, you taste like old blood and sex. All you need is some candy and you'd be the perfect tribute to that song from the nineties."

She slammed her head forward, thudding their foreheads together with as much force as she could manage in her position of weakness.

Xander grunted. "Ow, you made me bite my tongue." He raised a hand to his lips and traced the faint trickle of blood with his fingertips. Then he brought it down to her face and drew a circle in the middle of her forehead, slashing a cross through it. "I don't really like it when I bleed my own blood and there's no sex involved. I think I'm gonna have to teach your little friends a lesson," he glanced up at them through the fringe of his hair, "and you're gonna be a reference tool."

Things were a blur of whooping, high-pitched laughter and screams after that. Blood seeped into the wall hangings and stained the clothes of those watching in swatching splatters that no one dared to duck away from for fear of drawing down his terrible attentions. Jean-Claude's enforcers kept the crowd back, boxing them in so that if someone decided to be stupidly brave, they wouldn't get very far with it.

And when it was all said and done, Xander fell back on his old tried and true favorite. The scritch  of a match, then the helpless screams were even higher pitched and piteous before they finally fell away into silence.

Wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans, Xander strode stiff legged to stand in front of the new vampires, a smirk tugging his lips. "Well, now that was fun, wasn't it? Does anyone else have an objection to my and Jean-Claude's relationship, 'cause if you do I'm totally happy to hear whatever you've got to say. Honestly."

They looked at him with blank faces, though their eyes blazed with that vampire fire that spoke louder than a thousand words. They were angry and upset and probably a bit freaked out, no matter what crazy shit they'd seen other masters do, but they weren't going to show any of it in front of him, not when they were in a position of weakness. They weren't that stupid, which gave him hope that they would eventually learn what he had to teach them about pain and control and how to be a real vampire rather than the pansy assed versions they had let themselves become.

"Cool," Xander said, letting his face smooth back into the innocent schoolboy look that had done him so well back in Sunnydale before people finally figured out that he wasn't just the Master's lapdog and fucktoy. "Jean-Claude is gonna speak and you're gonna listen and it's gonna be all good."

He turned away from them, drifting across the room to lean close to Jean-Claude, breathing the words directly into his ear so no one else could hear. "I'm gonna find Asher now. That whole thing got me all hot." He flicked his tongue out, brushing it against the edge of Jean-Claude's ear, making the older vampire hiss and shudder, the aurdeur suddenly flicking to full-on mode, filling the entire room with a warm heat.

Xander stepped back. "There. I brought on the terror, and now you show them that working for you can be awesome and hot. Seduce 'em baby, make 'em burn your way so I don't have to burn 'em later in mine."

Jean-Claude's eyes were drowning pools of dark blue, swirling with heat and desire, and when he pulled himself away from Xander and turned to speak to his new vampires, his voice was a seductive purr, dragging them into his web, turning them to his cause with the promise of great rewards. The tension in the room rose to delicious heights, vampire cool skin moistening with desire as their eyes burned with sudden want.

Walking out of the room, Xander could only shake his head and smile at the magnetism Jean-Claude exuded with his every word or gesture. And the terror he had brought on earlier was being subsumed by the desire Jean-Claude had woken, but it wouldn't be forgotten and it would grow with the telling.

Soon the voices on the streets would tell that working for Jean-Claude was the greatest reward ever as long as you didn't go against him. Loyalty was rewarded in pleasure and power, disloyalty was punished in pain and death, and there would be no waffling allowed.

Xander rolled his shoulders, better settling his blood-spattered shirt. Now that his work was done, he was going to get his own reward for a deed well done, just as soon as he found Asher.

* * *

The room was stifling with the scents of sweat and sex. Curled nude around the body of her lover, the redhaired girl yawned hugely.

"Oh, little tree, what dreams do drift within your head tonight?"

The girl that was not a girl shook her head. "Donno. I had a Vision of someone long dead. We could have been friends somewhere or somewhen, but he's bones rotting under the earth, all the flesh melted away so nothing's left. I can hear his screams sometimes, they should be sweet music but instead they pain me. Mommy didn't love him and Daddy was a bad, bad man."

"Then why do you dream of him, my love? Why does he haunt your thoughts tonight?"

"It's like I can feel him beating at the heart of the world. His voice calls my name. Somewhere he loved me more than anything. He killed thousands just to see me smile. A beautiful and dark prince. He could swallow the world whole if he ever felt the need. His is a different breed of monster, multiplying effortlessly between one night and the next, moving through the shadows of sunlight."

"Awake during the day you say? Let me see this wondrous beast." Pale, spidery hands pressed against the girl's forehead, drawing out the memory of dreams through the prick of blood red nails. "Ooh, he is beautiful. Filled with darkness and an insatiable hunger. He would make a wonderful pet."

"We would have to break him first, since he has had his own way for so long."

"That will be fun. And just think, we are to be heading to his city soon anyway. It's fate, darling, that he be ours."

"Where are we going?" the girl asked, propping her head on her palm.

"To St. Louis, dearling. That uppity Jean-Claude must be taught a lesson, so grandfather is sending us to carry his word."

"Ooh, Jean-Claude. I've heard so much about him recently. And I would really love to meet his famed Executioner. I wonder if she is truly as powerful as everyone says."

"We will find out soon enough."

* * *

Jason ruffled his hair dry with a towel and quickly dressed. He felt weary way down deep, far past the physical level.

The shows at Guilty Pleasures had recently taken on a rather Cirque du Soleil feel to them, becoming exotic and acrobatic spectacles that fully displayed the inhuman strength and flexibility of the lycanthropes and vampires that worked there. Some of the human dancers felt a little cheated, but they all had their parts to play, either as "victims," or as living pieces of art, costumed and make-uped to the point that he almost couldn't recognize his co-workers, dazzling in their sensuous beauty.

Xander had professed a liking of Cirque, so Jean-Claude had brought a bit of the magic to him. One day, normal Guilty Pleasures seductive flair, the next they were all performers in the circus. It made Jason wonder what would happen if Xander ever pointed at someone and said, "I want that one torn limb from limb and eaten alive by werewolves."

Would Jean-Claude sacrifice a victim to Xander's self-proclaimed soullessness, or would he pull back and finally say "enough?"

They were all standing on a slippery slope and the only way was down.

The darkness in Xander was a devouring dark, drawing them in closer and closer until finally there was no getting away again, and by the time it reached that point, no one wanted to escape anyway. The darkness was seductive, the thought that they could do whatever they wanted and no one could stop them. It was frightening, and yet...

Jason shivered suddenly, feeling a tightening in his groin that was not quite arousal.

He really couldn't say what he was becoming, but it was so far from human that he could only describe it as... human.

"Hey Jason, where've you been?"

He turned to see Nathaniel leaning in the doorway looking sad and dejected. The wereleopard had thought that life with Anita would bring him happiness, but her refusal to meet some of his "baser" needs was drawing him thin.

Jason felt kind of bad for his friend but didn't know what he could do. Nathaniel insisted on staying with Anita even though he was fading away a bit at a time as Anita refused to meet his needs.

She simply could not understand that he was a submissive with a taste for pain, it wasn't just some kind of game he was playing for attention. He had a need to be directed and dominated, and even though it made Anita uncomfortable and she wanted to just shrug it off like it didn't matter, there was a definite psychological need there that simply was not being fulfilled.

Sometimes Jason thought that maybe Anita was just incapable of seeing Nathaniel as a human being. All she knew was that he had a penis, he would do whatever she told him to, and that if she needed her house cleaned he would be more than happy to do it. The only needs he had were the ones that Anita gave him.

What Anita seemed to forget was the fact that Nathaniel was a human being under the mask of a monster he sometimes wore. He had needs both sexual and emotional. And just because there were some aspects of his personality that she chose to ignore didn't mean that they weren't still there, chomping at the bit, needing some kind of attention from someone.

"Hey Nathaniel. I've been doing good." Jason offered up a little smile, though it felt uncomfortably lopsided because he really didn't know what he could do for his friend.

Nathaniel drifted into the locker room to drop down on one of the bench seats. There was a thick smear of iridescent glitter across one cheek.

"I've missed you," Nathaniel said softly.

Jason cocked his head. "We see each other all the time at work," he said.

Nathaniel laughed a little, but it was a sad sound. "We see each other, but that's it. We don't talk anymore. We don't hang out. I know we're not exactly best friends forever, but we were friends, and I miss that."

"What's up, Nathaniel? What's going on in your world?" Jason asked.

Nathaniel lay back on the bench, his silky auburn hair cascading around him to pool on the floor. "I think I need to run away from my life."

"Huh? What?"

Nathaniel closed his eyes and sighed. "She's sucking the life out of me. I've given her everything, but I'm not what she wants, and she's not what I need."

Jason knelt next to him, staring intently into his face. He could tell this was a delicate situation; Nathaniel was close to the breaking point and the fact that he was asking for help meant a lot. "What do you need, Nathaniel?"

"I need the lick of the whip. I need the gentle kiss of a heated blade melting through my flesh. I need the enclosing tightness of ropes binding me down, holding me in, keeping me from flying off into every direction. I need the hard, digging agony of an unlubed cock shoving into me like a dagger, ripping me apart even as it brings me back to where I belong." He opened eyes that burned and looked right through Jason. "Talk to him for me, please. Ask him if he can give me what I need and not tell Anita. I need to be broken. It's the only way I can ever be whole again."

Jason sucked in a sharp breath, knowing who "he" was even without him being named. "You can't trust him, Nathaniel. He's... he's like a force of nature. And he's the cruelest person I've ever met. He'll hurt you just because he can."

"Good. I wanna be torn apart and put back together again."

"I... I can tell this is something you need, but I don't think it's what you want. He'll hurt you, Nathaniel, he'll hurt you in ways you'll never come back from. He's more of a monster than any of the rest of us. He says he has no soul, and I believe him."

Nathaniel sat up suddenly, his eyes blazing. "I don't care if he has a fucking soul or not, Jason. I've spent years of my life pretending to be what I thought Anita wanted, but... she looks right through me without ever seeing me at all. I feel like an empty doll, glassy eyes and Barbie hair." He jerked a hand through his long locks. "I need to feel real, Jason. I need to know that I'm still here, that I haven't disappeared completely when I wasn't looking."

Jason sighed. "Fine. I'll ask him if he can keep it on the down low, but I'm not gonna make you any promises, Nathaniel. Sure, he'll be happy to fuck you raw, but... He likes to break things, and if telling Anita that he fucked you will give him even a second of pleasure, he won't hesitate to do it."

Nathaniel glanced down with a sigh, then shrugged. "Whatever. Maybe it's time that Anita realized I'm not just an accessory or something. Maybe this needs to happen before any of us can go on."

"I'll talk to him," Jason said. "But I really don't know if this is going to turn out in any way good for you, Nathaniel. You'll probably just end up regretting this whole thing."

"Life is made out of regrets. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I didn't regret something somewhere."

"Whatever."

* * *

He rolled into town with the sunlight streaming all around him. This was usually the time when he slept, resting up for the challenge the night brought, the hunting of monsters.

For the longest time he had only had an emptiness inside where his feelings used to live. The death of his family had taken the life out of him, made him wonder if there was any reason to go on. The still-teenaged father with the dead wife and child and nothing much to look forward to.

Vengeance had brought the fire back in his veins, had woken him up to the fact that there might be more in the world than blank unfeeling. He could go out there and kill the monsters himself, he could make them bleed the way he had bled, could be the one to save someone the pain of losing all that they loved.

As time had passed though, it hadn't been so much about revenge against the monsters as it was the thrill of the hunt. The only time he felt any kind of whole was when he was killing something.

He had fallen into a bad crowd, had let himself be used as weapon, and it hadn't felt like much of anything, not until he had truly thought his fire had burnt out. Then he had run away to start a new life for himself, had opened himself up to a new career and a new challenge.

The monsters called him Death. The legal sides of the world called him Ted Forrester. A select few knew him as Edward. But inside, where a loving heart had once beat itself into stillness, he knew himself only as a skinless, soulless beast, all sense of identity stripped away until he didn't even have a name or any real sense of self.

The sunlight kissing his bare skin with warmth was nothing to the coldness in his heart, the bottomless rage that beat beneath the great empty he swam in. Somewhere, way deep inside, he was still angry at the world and fate and everything else. Somewhere, beyond the depths he dared to tread, there was a man screaming out that he had been cheated out of love and life and hope.

Death had come to St. Louis. Wearing the guise of an attractive blond man driving a white hummer, a shadow-eyed teenaged boy in the passenger seat, and enough of an arsenal in the back to cause even the most fearless beast to pause a little.

The sky was a deep radiant blue, the sun shone down in pure, rippling waves of summer heat, and Death rolled past the city limits and kept on going into the heart of St. Louis. The thrum of his lifeforce pumping through his body was a dull beat in his veins, his skin prickled with drops of sweat, but none of it touched him.

He could feel the call of his next challenge. He could feel the unfolding possibility of his next hunt, his next kill. He could almost smell the blood in his nose and feel the stuttering stop of a life under his hands as he came a little too close to his prey, offering himself up as a sacrifice if the situation called for it.

Death let a small smile curl his lips.

* * *

"Are you really going to go through with this?" Micah asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

Nathaniel nodded firmly. "I want it. I haven't wanted something so much in a long time."

Micah pressed his lips together for a moment, thought flickering behind his catlike eyes. "I can't let you go alone. Who knows what he'll do to you? I'm going with you just to make sure everything's all right."

"We're all going," Zane said suddenly. "There's no way either one of you is going alone."

Nathaniel turned his head, looking at his pard. They were a warm presence enfolding him close, offering him something he had long been denied. A small smile quirked his lips. "All right."

Though some might have thought it madness, he couldn't help the upswell of joy he felt at the thought of his pard--his family--sharing in the experience he was about to have.

Jason had asked and Xander had agreed. Nathaniel was going to have the one night he needed. He was going to feel the pleasure and the pain of being someone's toy, and maybe if he was lucky, he might experience the ecstasy of a blade's kiss against his flesh.

Absently, he rubbed his perking nipple through his shirt, liking the hidden sting of the silver ring that pierced his flesh. Anita didn't like it, thinking it was too much a reminder of his past, but he had quietly refused to let that last little bit of himself go.

He had done everything for her. He had given up so much of the things that had made him him, and even though he had known some had seen him as nothing more than a victim, in his life he had found a kind of strength in being the vessel of pain.

Anita couldn't understand the power of being the submissive in a relationship. She was a dominant, but a selfish one. She relished giving orders and bending the people around her to her wants, but she didn't acknowledge the needs of her submissives. She was strong in her power, but weak at the same time, weak and too greedy to let even a little bit of her control go to satisfy the needs of her partners.

Nathaniel had once thought that Anita was everything he had ever wanted. She was so strong all the time, always knew where she stood in the world. But even though it had taken him awhile, he had been forced to open his eyes to her willful blindness and her many inadequacies.

She was like a little girl clenching her eyes tight shut, insisting that if she refused to see the world, then the world couldn't see her. The people around her were like puppets in her play, their sole purpose to fulfill her every desire and nothing else.

She could not see the individual for their needs.

He still loved her though, couldn't really help it. Some part of him had vowed that he would be there by her side forever, being everything she wanted him to be. But tonight... tonight he would let go of all the masks he wore, even if it was just for a little while, and do something for himself.

The aching, gnawing hunger inside was killing him and he couldn't ignore it anymore. But once it was satisfied he would go back to being her meek and malleable Nathaniel and she would never have to know how warped he really was, how completely broken he still was.

Anita could stay in her fantasy world where she was the queen and they were all her faithful servants. She would never have to know what he really was.

As long as he had tonight.

"Let's go," he said, his voice deeper than usual.

* * *

After a night of raising the dead, she let herself in the front door of her house, expecting to be greeted by her various lovers.

She was surprised to find everything dark. Her senses told her that there was no one home. For the first time in who knew how long, she was completely alone.

Anita sighed, dragging her weary body through the living room and into the kitchen.

She really didn't know what had happened to her life. What had brought her to this place and time? Where was she going next?

After drinking a glass of nearly ice cold water, she forced herself up the stairs and through her bedroom into the master bathroom. She needed to wash. She stank of old blood and grave rot.

Mrs. Hamilton had been a tough old bird and had fought being put back into the ground. Even knowing she was dead and that everything should be over for her, she still kept insisting that she had some life left in her, that she could drag things back from the brink. Anita had felt a little bad at first, but frustration had forced her to be brutally honest in telling the woman that it was over, all over. There was no coming back from the dead for real, no matter what people liked to imagine in fairy tales. There wasn't going to be a happy ending, dead was dead, and Mrs. Hamilton was going back in the grave where she belonged and there was no changing that.

God, but she hated having to be the bad guy. It was just that over the years she had gotten to be too good at it.

Stripping off her clothes, she started water running in the bathtub.

Maybe a nice soak would clear her head and she wouldn't feel so blah inside.

.

She was startled awake by the sudden awareness that she wasn't alone.

Anita jerked up in the bathtub, water splashing loudly in the shadowed dimness of only one candle still burning. A large hand pressing down on her shoulder kept her from leaping all of the way out of the tub.

"Hold on, Anita," that familiar voice said.

She blew out a breath and sank back down a little, turning her head to look at him. "Edward," she said. "What do you want?"

He smiled, his teeth flashing white in the darkness, though his eyes were empty of anything so nice. "Hey Anita, I heard you had a little situation a month or so back," he said.

She felt a headache beginning at the base of her neck. She had known this was coming, but had hoped that it would be a long way off. "Uh, look, there was..."

He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. "Ah, ah, Anita, this is no time for excuses." He crossed his legs, casually sitting on the edge of the tub, his eyes not even drifting down a little. It was as though he was completely inured to her nakedness, nothing about her bare body drawing his attention at all. "Someone used my name while performing a hit. And from what I heard on the grapevine... you were involved. Now, why don't you tell me what happened and we'll move on from there."

Anita felt the flowering of dread in her belly. There was something hinted at in the tone of his voice, something that let her know none of this was going to end well. He was being strangely pleasant, but her instincts were screaming at her to run away. She was in the presence of a mad beast.

"Look, Edward, it's like this..." And even knowing she probably shouldn't, that saying anything was a bad idea, she began to spill it all. And where everything petty lived inside her, a little voice laughed at the trouble about to be rained down on Xander's head.

* * *

Reclining on the dark red, crushed velvet couch, Xander absently kicked a bare foot in the air and wondered if he should keep waiting for the gorgeous but whiny guy, or go find something to kill.

He reached down and rubbed the heel of his hand against the erection pressing against the front of his jeans. The only thing keeping him from finding something more entertaining than waiting was the possibility of future sex.

There was a faint tap against the door.

Xander turned his head. "Enter."

The door swung open and he felt a smile twist his lips when Nathaniel crept in followed by almost the entire pard. "What's this? You didn't tell me we were having an orgy."

Nathaniel looked at him, his skin flushing prettily, and licked his lips. "They're not here for sex," he said.

"Then what do they want?" Xander asked, sliding the tips of his fingers over the zipper of his jeans. He liked the shivery feeling it created.

"They're here just to make sure I don't do anything stupid. They're just going to watch and make sure you don't really hurt me."

Xander threw back his head and laughed. "Ooh, voyeurs. How'd you know I have a fetish for being watched while I work?" He sat up and crooked a finger. "Come here, bitch, it's time you learned your place."

Nathaniel started walking toward him, but Xander shook his head and pointed to the floor. Nathaniel fell to his knees and began to crawl.

"Good boy," Xander said. "I'm gonna let your friends watch the show. But if they interfere... I'll kill them and your fun will stop."

"Please don't," Nathaniel whispered, but he couldn't hide the way excitement burned in his eyes. He'd always had a thing for threats and danger, just not the real death when it happened.

Xander grinned. "I think I'm going to have fun with you."

Nathaniel trembled, his pale skin flushing with desire. His long, flowing hair trailed the floor behind him and Xander felt his fingers itch.

.

Xander was laughing, a strange whooping sound that sent a shiver down Nathaniel's spine.

"That's right, bitch, you're mine now!" Xander yelled, riding him hard enough that Nathaniel could feel his hipbones bending and grinding in their unnatural position.

There was a sudden sharp CRACK! against Nathaniel's cheek and he blinked tears out of his eyes. Xander slapped him again, then bent his neck forward and licked the tears away, his tongue rasping against Nathaniel's eyelids.

"You cry so pretty," Xander crooned. "Let's see what else you can do."

.

Xander's fingers tangled in Nathaniel's long hair, yanking and pulling, positioning the other man's head the way he wanted.

Nathaniel's jaw ached from being opened so wide, but he didn't even think to complain.

"You'll do whatever I want, won't you?" Xander said. He smiled, a sunny expression much at odds with all of the things he had done tonight. "Let's try something a bit different now, shall we?"

.

The bright, hiss-crack of the whip. Trailing echoes of pain etching their way deliciously across his skin, burning their way into his very being.

.

The dark wire pulled tight around his throat, blocking out the air. He could feel his eyes bulging in his head and knew he should be terrified, but his erection was so hard and starving that he couldn't care about anything else.

The brush of Xander's hand against him made tears spring into his eyes and he whole-body trembled, aching for more.

.

Nathaniel moaned around the ball-gag in his mouth. He could feel Xander's fingers digging into the flesh of his stomach, wriggling around inside him, brushing up against usually hidden organs.

His hips bucked uncontrollably, his body instinctively trying to get away even while he was so hard he could almost taste his own erection in the back of his throat. His arms and legs jerked, but the ropes digging into his wrists and ankles kept him from getting away.

Xander suddenly lunged forward and Nathaniel's eyes flinched shut and he tried to scream at the strobe-flash of pain just below his ribcage. He opened his eyes again in time to see Xander sitting back up, a chunk of flesh in his teeth and a manic glitter in his eyes.

Nathaniel had never been harder in his life.

.

Xander surged into him so powerfully his head slammed into the headboard and Nathaniel couldn't even find it in him to care.

"You're mine, mine, mine," Xander grunted, thrusting harder and harder with each 'mine.'

When Xander yanked hard on the hair he had wrapped tight around his hand, Nathaniel could only shout, "Yes, yours, yours, please..."

Xander laughed, a strangely thrilling sound. "Mine!" He lunged forward and Nathaniel came so hard he barely felt the laser burn of teeth biting the back of his neck, marking him.

This was what he had been starving for, the one thing that Anita had never been able to offer him.

Possession. Belonging. The knowledge that someone wanted him and would have him in any way possible.

More than anything in his life, he had only ever wanted to be owned by someone, anyone.

* * *

Anita gasped, her hand clutching her chest. She had the sudden sense that something irreplaceable had just been ripped out of her.

"Are you all right?" Edward asked, not even pretend-worry in his voice.

Anita shuddered and blinked, drawing in a deep breath. "I... I'm fine," she said. "I just," she blinked at him, "had the weirdest sensation."

Edward leaned back in the chair. "What kind of sensation?"

Anita shook her head. "I can't even explain it. It was just..."

A knock at the door interrupted her before she could finish. She wasn't even sure what she was about to say, so was rather relieved that she could let it go.

Standing, she pulled her robe tight around her body and padded barefoot to the door. Without even having to think about what she was doing, her hand slipped into the pocket of her robe and her gun practically leaped into her hand, a reassuring weight.

Glancing through the side window, she felt her eyes going wide when she saw who was standing outside her front door. "What the hell?" She jerked the door open.

Peter Parnell stood on her doorstep in a pair of blue jeans, a dark blue shirt, and a light-weight black jacket. A black fitted cap was pulled down on his head and he slouched slightly. On closer look, he seemed different from the boy she had met in Santa Fe. There was a dull-burn in his eyes that stirred uneasy feelings in her stomach.

"Peter!" She stepped back, holding the door open without offering any kind of welcome. "What are you doing here?"

A faint smile quirked his lips and she couldn't help the disturbed thrill that went through her. "Hello Anita." He brushed past her and crossed into the living room.

"I thought I told you to wait at the motel?" Edward said, no sign of anger in his voice.

Peter shrugged. "I got bored waiting. Besides, when have I ever listened to you about waiting?"

"Hm." Edward didn't say anything else.

Anita slammed the door and stomped her way to stand in front of Edward. "What is he doing here, Edward? I thought you came here on a job? Why's Peter here?" She could feel a dark suspicion growing inside her.

The smile that formed on Edward's lips sent a sick sureness through her that her suspicions were right. "He goes with me everywhere, Anita. He's learning a trade."

"What... what about Donna and Becca? Don't they wonder where he is?" she demanded.

"Don't talk about them!" Peter shouted, then threw himself on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest with a dark look on his face.

Edward flicked his eyes over the boy assessingly, then looked back at Anita. "There was an... incident about five months ago. Donna and Becca are dead. Peter's only alive because he was spending the night at a friend's house."

Anita pressed her hand to her mouth, then looked at the boy. "Oh Peter, I'm so sorry..."

He snorted. "Don't fucking pity me, bitch." He glared at her. "We killed those motherfuckers. Now let it go."

Looking at the kid's rage, Anita knew better than to touch a lighted match to that dynamite. She turned to Edward. "Why's he with you? Shouldn't he be with other family or something?"

Edward shrugged. "He's my son now, Anita. He wanted to come with me and I wasn't going to tell him no. Besides... everyone grows older and has to start thinking about the future."

"What does that mean?" Anita asked.

"Someday I'm going to need a successor," Edward said. "I might as well start training him now."

"No!" Anita shouted, stomping her foot on the floor. "There's no fucking way I'm letting you do this. It's crazy."

"Why?"

"He's a child, Edward," Anita hissed, her eyes angry slits. "He's not like us."

A cold smile twisted Edward's lips. "He's just like us, Anita. He just started younger, that's all. He was never a victim like you. He shot the beast that killed his father. Eight years old, Anita, and he stood his ground and saved his mother and sister. He's one of us."

Anita's eyes closed in momentary pain. "He didn't have to be, though. If he'd never met you... He would have gone the rest of his life as just another boy."

Edward shook his head. "No, he was never 'just another boy.' No matter how it would have happened, he would still have ended up in the same place. The only difference would be that I wouldn't be there to keep an eye on him and help him make those first rough steps without ending up dead or turned, that's all. He's always been here in the darkness, Anita. He's always been a shooter."

"I hate it," Anita said. "I hate how everything you touch turns to ashes."

"You hate it because it's the same for you," Edward said. "Lie to me, tell me that anything you've come into contact with has lasted. Tell me that anyone you've even brushed against has remained uncorrupted. Come on, Anita, make me believe your stories of a better world and a better life."

"Shut up," she said, defeat in her voice. She couldn't think of even one person that had stayed whole around her, not even her family.

Somehow, without her noticing it, she had become some kind of disease that infected everything she came into contact with.

* * *

They were tangled up in the sweat-soaked and torn sheets.

Nathaniel slept with the innocence of a child, much at odds with the things that had gone on in this room less than an hour before. Xander lay on his stomach, his head pillowed on his arms, the darkest kind of angel, with his tousled hair falling across his forehead and a sweet smile quirking those liar's lips.

Micah glanced at the members of the pard huddled in the corner with him. None of them quite knew what to say about all that they had witnessed.

"That was..." Zane shook his head. Cherry curled herself tight against his side, a drawn look in her eyes.

Micah sighed heavily. He didn't really know what he felt about what he had seen.

He had known that Nathaniel was a submissive, had heard the stories about how he didn't know when to draw the line and that Anita had ordered that he be protected even from himself. But...

Xander was like nothing any of them had ever seen before. He was like a force of nature and he had done things to Nathaniel with a kind of casual surety that had been frightening.

There had been several times when Micah had stepped forward to stop things from happening, but all Xander had had to do was look at him and he was frozen in place. Those warm brown eyes had bled to a blazing neon green and Micah had felt his breath catch in his chest and he could only watch what happened.

Nathaniel was still alive and it should have been some kind of miracle, but Micah had instinctively known that Xander knew right where the line between life and death was and that he wouldn't cross it unless he wanted to. And if Micah wanted to make a scene, wanted to dare the madman, then Xander wouldn't have hesitated to do more than brush up against it... he would have reached in and pulled out Nathaniel's heart.

And Nathaniel would have let him.

That was what had horrified Micah the most. Even knowing that Nathaniel had a dangerous passivity, the fact was that even while the most terrible things were being done to him, Nathaniel had never once said "No." If anything, the smell of arousal around him had only grown stronger, as though Xander was doing to him everything that he had wanted.

There was a faint click and the bedroom door swung open.

Micah found himself on his feet, standing in front of his pard.

Jean-Claude slipped into the room, Asher pausing in the doorway to watch.

"What kind of monster is he?" Micah demanded. Jean-Claude raised a perfect brow and Micah gestured at the bed. "Xander. What is he?"

"He is a vampire," Jean-Claude said, crossing over to the bed side, his attention only for Xander. "He is beautiful and deadly and he is mine."

Sensing his presence, Xander woke with a stretch, a satisfied smile crossing his lips when he saw Jean-Claude above him. "Um, I had the nicest dream," he murmured.

"Oh yes, mon amour? And what was in this dream of yours?"

Xander sat up in one smooth motion. "You were there, Jean-Claude, and there was blood and screaming and everything was so wonderful."

"Was I screaming?" Jean-Claude asked curiously.

Xander grinned. "Only when I wanted you to."

Jean-Claude laughed, a warm and touchable sound. He reached out a hand. "Come, let's go back to our bed. I can't Sleep without you there."

Xander took his hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. He glanced at Micah. "Take care of my new pet, will you?"

"He's not yours," Micah growled, stepping forward.

Xander snickered. "If you really think that, then you're more of an idiot than I thought. He's mine now, and nothing anyone can do will ever change that."

"What's this about now?" Jean-Claude asked, looking at him.

"I've Marked Nathaniel as mine," Xander said. "When I call his name... he will come. No matter what I ask of him, he will do it. He belongs to me."

"How... how could you Mark him? Is... Is he your servant now?" Micah asked.

Xander smirked. "I'm not like the vampires you're used to," he said. "I can Mark as many people as I want and there's nothing they can do about it."

Jean-Claude slipped a hand around Xander's arm. "Come, mon amour, it is time for us to go."

Xander let himself be led from the room, completely uncaring of his nakedness. "I know I've been busy all night long... but I can feel a bit of interest stirring," he said. He slipped his free hand into Asher's as they walked.

"Oh yes," Jean-Claude purred. "I've been thinking about you all night."

"Re-eally now? There's a few things I've always wanted to try, like..."

Once they were gone, Micah crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, staring down at Nathaniel's sleeping form.

There was the perfect imprint of teeth on the back of the other man's neck. The bite mark had already healed due to his lycanthropy, but it had scarred so darkly it could have been a tattoo.

"Oh Nathaniel, what have you done?" Micah whispered.

The younger man didn't even stir.

* * *

Slouching against a wall with his hands in his pockets, Peter wondered what he was doing here.

Anita Blake, she tried so hard to put on the nicey-nice face, but underneath she was just a bitch that always thought what she did was best. And the way she had all the monsters panting after her... it made him really have to wonder what was up with her.

Sure, she was pretty enough in a moon-pale, crinkle headed kind of way, but she also either dressed like a goth-golfer chick or like a party girl. And no matter how pretty she was, everyone around her usually got hurt in some way or another and he'd never thought torture was cool.

Edward had shown him some files on various people and Anita had been in there. And even though some people might have said he was too young for that kind of information, Edward had promised never to lie to him so he'd read the straight scoop and it had left him feeling cold.

He knew he'd pretty much put aside the whole idea of morals, but at least he was honest about it. Anita tried to pretend that everything she did was completely righteous when anyone with eyes could tell she was just deluding herself.

She'd met the raggedy edge and gone right the fuck over it.

"Just because Xander used your name, that's why you're here?" Anita asked

Edward jerked a nod. "I got a little curious about who was willing to use Death's name on a hit. Besides, Peter needs a taste of the world, and St Louis is crawling with monsters."

"Don't kill anyone Edward," Anita warned. "There's no one here that needs your specialized attentions."

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Anita," Edward said. "Ever since you started shacking up with the monsters... I've had to call your humanity into some serious question. And everyone knows that I don't listen to what the monsters have to say."

Peter quirked an eyebrow when he realized that Anita wasn't going to deny her monster status. It actually made him respect her a tiny bit that she could be that honest about herself, even if she lied about everything else in her life.

"You don't want to mess with Xander," Anita said. "Jean-Claude... he will tear you apart."

"What, you can't keep your pet vampire contained long enough for me to take out his little playmate?" Edward asked.

"Listen to me Edward," Anita said, her tone suddenly deathly serious. "Xander means a lot to Jean-Claude. It's like he's obsessed and he's not going to let anyone take that away from him. I... I hate Xander and everything that he does, but I'm not going to mess with him because I really think Jean-Claude would turn on me. And you... he wouldn't hesitate to take you out."

"Why, Anita, it almost sounds like you're scared of our little Master of the City," Edward said.

"There's something about Xander that makes Jean-Claude lose control. Xander's like a primal force and when he loses control he takes everyone with him."

"What, your vampire boyfriend is suddenly acting like a monster and it's freaking you out?" Edward snorted, shaking his head. "Why are you so surprised, Anita? You had to have known that this day was coming."

"Shut up, Edward." Anita crossed her arms and stared off into the middle distance.

Peter pulled his hands out of his pockets and wandered around the room, his hand drifting out in front of him, not quite touching anything.

Anita Blake had a nice house. It wasn't quite what he'd expected of her, what with her fetish for leather and dangerous weapons, but it was a nice place just the same. It actually kind of reminded him of his mom's house.

He ignored the dull ache that rose in his chest when he thought of his mother. She was gone and the world was still moving, so there was no time for him to ever think about falling apart.

"Just take my advice, Edward," Anita was saying. "Watch out for Xander. He's... he's something else."

Peter snorted. Like Edward was going to take her word for anything. She was shacking up with a bunch of animals. And if there was one idea he had come to himself in his own mind, it was that bestiality was gross.

* * *

Xander sighed, his fingers idly toying with Asher's spun gold hair.

The two stiff and still bodies lying on the bed with him were beautiful but boring. There was nothing like daylight outside to suck all the fun out of the menage a trois scene.

Sure, there'd been a couple of times where he'd been so impatient for them to wake up that he'd said "Screw it" and basically... well, he'd screwed them while they were unconscious. But having sex with what were for all intents and purposes dead bodies wasn't really his thrill of the hour. Necrophilia... it was so passe.

He'd had a bit of fun with Nate, but now he was too spun up to sleep and Jean-Claude and Asher were going to be out of commission for the next four to six hours, which really wasn't a lot of fun for him.

Even knowing that there was no way he could really wake them up at this point, he carefully climbed out of bed and padded naked out of the room and down the hall to the main common area of Jean-Claude's apartments.

A bunch of the wolves, vamps, and other Circus employees were arrayed around the room like an invitation to sex. It actually gave him a bit of a happy to see them like that.

"I'm bored," he said, flopping into an armchair. "Entertain me."

"And how do you expect us to do that?" Jason asked, sitting upright.

Xander shrugged. "I don't know and I don't really care. Either your guys entertain me... or I go find someone or something else to do it."

He loved how nervous Jason got when he dished out the ultimatums. There was just something so tasty about everyone jumping to his beck and call. Kind of took him back to the good old days.

"What... what do you want us to do?" one of the new guys, Cesar, asked. He was freshly turned, still looking nearly human, and he was fairly twitchy with the nerve-racking reality of not knowing what was going to happen to him next.

Xander gave him a dark smile. "Why don't you play a little bit with some of the wolves? I like to have a bit of a show every now and then. And if you do a good enough job... I won't flay you alive."

The kid looked like he was about to cry. He didn't know if Xander was serious or not... and in the mood he was in, Xander wasn't sure himself.

All he knew was that he was fairly vibrating with pent up energy and if he didn't do something about it... he was going to explode with violence of the unforgivable kind. The kind that not even Jean-Claude was going to be able to ignore and let slide.

It felt like his skin was crawling with ants and all he wanted to do was bathe the world in blood and gore.

* * *

The light in Xander's eyes made him nervous. He could already tell that things were heading in an ugly direction and there was nothing he could do about it.

Micah had given him a little phone call, so he knew that stuff had happened between Xander and Nathaniel. Things that had pretty much freaked the wereleopard alpha right the fuck out, which said a lot since the guy'd survived Chimera without totally cracking up.

"Oh, Xander, I don't think Jean-Claude would like it if...”

"Why don't you just shut your mouth until I suddenly start caring?" Xander said, his look so flat that Jason felt as though he'd been physically slapped.

His mouth closed with a snap and he realized yet again that Xander was one scary motherfucker and he really didn't want to mess with him. Or be messed with by him.

"What kinds of things will entertain you?" Carl asked nervously.

"I like blood, violence, and sex, and I really don't care what combination you give it to me as. So why don't you take an educated guess and surprise me." Xander smiled, that disturbingly charming smile that made him seem as though he was just another young kid and not a psychopathic blood-sucking fiend.

Jason looked around the room at his co-workers, his sometime friends, and knew that something absolutely needed to be done. "All right guys," he said, stepping forward, He didn't really want to take charge of such a fucked up situation, but he didn't really have much of a choice about what needed to be done.

"Ah, ah, ah," Xander said, wagging a finger at him. "You don't get to play with the other boys, Jason. I want you to stand next to me. And don't you fucking say a word. They've gotta get it right on their own."

It didn't take much imagination for Jason to know that things were about to get fucking crazy. And there wasn't anything he could do about it.

With a heavy sigh, he slunk across the room to stand by Xander's side. Though it made his skin creep to stand so close to him, knowing what was going to happen.

I don't want to fucking be here, he thought. But there was no one out there to offer any answers.

* * *

Stalking through the Circus of the Damned, her bodyguards at her back, Anita didn't know if she should tell Jean-Claude that Edward was in town. Some part of her--so stubbornly loyal--was urging her to open her mouth and say something. But the largest part of her wanted to find out what Edward would do to Xander.

The scene that greeted them when they pushed open the door that lead into Jean-Claude's private quarters... it was startling to say the least.

Unchanged, partially changed, and fully changed lycanthropes writhing around in an orgy of flesh, their bodies shining with the lubrication slickness of the fluid from their changes. The smell... it was overpowering musk, animal pheromones, and the blood dripping from the gaping jaws of one of the wolfmen as he rubbed against the cringing, fresh-bitten flesh of his victim.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Anita demanded, her voice rising up shrilly as she realized what was happening to herself. All that sex in the room... it was perking the interest of the ardeur.

From where he was sitting, like a king lolling on his throne, Xander laughed. "We're just having a little fun, 'Nita. You don't always have to be such a fucking prude just because it's not you doing the dirty."

"Shut up!"

"Ah, did I strike a nerve or something? If you really want to join in... go right ahead. I'm sure they'd like a little pussy with all the cock they've got going on."

Anita growled under her breath, her hand flashing down to the grip of her gun, half pulling it free of the holster.

A strong hand on her wrist stopped her and she looked up into the still, cold eyes of Toby, her supposed bodyguard. But she knew what he really was. He was there to keep her from hurting Jean-Claude's precious whore.

"Fine," she jerked her hand away. She pointed at Xander. "This is fucking disgusting. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you... but it's gotta stop."

Xander just laughed. It was a sound that vibrated up and down her spine chillingly as she whirled and left the room faster than she came in. But she wasn't running. Yet.

* * *

There was something so satisfying about fucking with Anita. She was just so damned easy.

The look on her face had been priceless. Way more entertaining than the impromptu little orgy he had going on in front of him. Icing on the cake.

"Why do you do that?"

Xander looked at Jason, a smirk tugging his lips. "Why not?"

"She wouldn't try to kill you so often if you would stop baiting her," Jason said, as though that made a world of sense.

"Maybe I want her to try and kill me. She's more interesting when she's being all aggressive. It adds a bit of spice to life. Plus, if she pushes me hard enough... Maybe we'll all get to see what happens when the Executioner is executed."

"If she dies, that will kill Jean-Claude," Jason warned nervously.

"That's about all that's stopped me so far," Xander said. "But for every problem, there is a solution. And if I ever find a way to have her gone, but keep Jean-Claude unliving... well, won't that just be a happy-happy joy-joy."

"You're sick," Jason said, but even if he refused to acknowledge it, there was a hint of admiration in his gaze.

Maybe that was why Xander liked screwing with the guy so much. Jason tried so hard not to be a monster, but it was such a huge part of him that even when he tried to be his most human, he ended up letting his hunger for darkness shine through.

It was just such a tasty treat to make the guy squirm.

He was just planning what he was going to say next when he felt that surging warmth of metaphysical energy go through him. It made his spirits brighten with unwilling happiness.

"Looks like Jean-Claude's waking up. Good. I was getting bored." He waved a hand at the grunting, groaning, whining mass of writhing man-flesh in front of him. "These guys need more practice in how to make their show entertaining. For a bunch of strippers and exotic show pieces, they're pretty sucktastical. And not in the fun way."

Jason gave him a dark look, but that only made him laugh.

"Come on va-Jay-Jay, don't look so down, turn that frown upside down. Your master's awake and he feels a tad peckish. Maybe you can get your jollies off getting your blood sucked out."

"You're really screwed up, you know that?"

"I know. And I love it."

* * *

They were skulking outside of one of the Master of the City's clubs--Danse Macabre.

Peter didn't really know what he was supposed to think of the place, since he really didn't have a whole lot of experience with the club scene, but he couldn't help thinking the place was a bit overdone. Kind of like most vampires seemed to be.

There was just something so stupid about adults running around in a place that had blowup dolls stuck to the ceiling. It was like an S&M scene gone horribly wrong.

"Do you see those two?" Edward asked, low voiced. Peter nodded. "Those are Flick and Swish."

"What's with their names?" Peter asked.

Edward shrugged. "I don't really..."

"For some reason, most of the vampires that come to St. Louis decide to change their names to something stupid. I think they're ashamed to have their little friends know who they really are. It's kind of pathetic."

Hearing that voice so close behind them, Edward whirled around with blinding speed, his gun jumping into his hand. Peter was just a bit slower, his heart thudding in his ears.

The boy standing there couldn't have been much older than Peter when he died. He just looked like some kid--dark hair, brown eyes, a nice enough face. But that smirk on his mouth was kind of unpleasant.

"Xander," Edward said flatly.

Peter twitched a little in surprise. So this was the monster that had used Edward's name on a kill. The Master of the City's lover.

He really didn't look like a being of ultimate evil. Then again, they never did.

Peter's hand tightened on the grip of his gun nervously.

"What brings you into our lovely little town?" Xander asked.

"Oh, I was just a little curious as to how I could have been killing things here when I was all the way in New Mexico at the time."

"Astral projection?" Xander raised a teasing eyebrow.

"Can the crap, Xander. I want to know what was going on here and how my name managed to be dragged into it." Edward's voice was completely without emotion, which conversely made his anger more clear.

"Come on, man, a hit of that magnitude didn't do your reputation any damage. It was something that almost brought down the Executioner until Death stepped in to handle the situation. Totally looks awesome on your resume. So why can't you take the props and let it go?" There was something in Xander's tone that made his words a lie. He was laughing at them, mocking Edward and everything that he did.

"Why'd you really bring me into your game, Xander?" Edward asked.

Xander tried to look innocent for a moment, then gave up with a laugh, tossing his hands in the air. "All right, you totally got me. Come on Eddie, lighten up a little. You're going to make your hair go white... oh wait." He strolled closer to them, not even seeming to care that Edward's gun followed his every movement. "You're always such fun to play with, but Jean-Claude is such a worrywort. He thinks that if I go up against you I might get hurt. It's kind of sweet that he cares that much, but sometimes I just wanna have fun. So when the opportunity presented itself... well, I knew that if I threw the bait out there, you'd come my way."

"You really want to go against me?" Edward asked, something quickening behind the stillness of his eyes.

Xander gave him a flashing smile. "Don't you think it would be fun? I'm just so bored of the no-killing-humans rule. But you, you don't really count as human in the eyes of the community, especially if you come after me first."

The whole time they were talking, Xander was gliding around them like a shark, his hip-swaying stroll bringing him in ever closer circles.

Peter felt sweat trickling into his eyes and fought the urge to blink. His heart was beating fast, his hands wanted to flex and tremble, and he suddenly felt as if he needed to urinate. This was everything he'd been training the last two years for... and he suddenly wondered if he was going to wimp out at the last minute.

Only the image of Becca and his mom that he kept locked away in his mind kept him from turning and running. The last time he had seen them, or what was left of them. It was what made him want to kill all the monsters, no matter how pretty and charming.

He suddenly felt the warm burn of eyes focusing on him, but refused to let himself meet Xander's gaze. He knew what happened to stupid hunters that let themselves look directly into a vampire's eyes--they died.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? What's your name, little pretty?"

"Peter," he couldn't help saying, mesmerized by the sound of that voice, seeming so close to his ear even though the owner was still feet away.

"Peter," Xander tasted the name. "Aren't you scared of the big bad wolf, Peter? What will you do if I want to EAT you, little boy? Will you scream and cry for help? Will you beg and plead with me not to hurt you?" Xander was suddenly barely a hands-breadth away. He leaned in close, pressing a kiss against Peter's neck, breathing in the scent of sixteen year old boy. "Are you going to call out for someone to help you? Are you going to yell for your father?" He breathed deeply. "Ah, no, you seem more like the kind to scream for his mother. Go on little one, yell for your mommy to come save you."

"Get the fuck away from him!" Edward didn't quite yell, but his voice was powerful. There was the crack-BANG of his gun and a hole blossomed in Xander's chest.

The vampire stumbled backward, a hand rising to press against the hole, his mouth forming a pained "oh." But he didn't fall down, didn't give anything more than those couple of steps backwards. "Ouch, that fucking hurt. What do you do, load your ammo with silver nitrate or something? If I was a werewolf I'd probably be convulsing on the ground right now, dying if I was really weak." He straightened with a feral grin. "Good thing I'm not, huh?"

"What the hell are you? You should be down on the ground," Edward asked, his voice sounding almost conversational.

"I'm like nothing you've ever seen before," Xander said, before taking another shot to the chest.

It took Peter a couple of heartbeats to realize that it had been his finger to tighten on the trigger. He had been the one to put that new hole in Xander's shirt.

"Geez kid, you better watch it with that thing," Xander said, laughing. "You could put somebody's eye out."

This was like every nightmare come to life. One of the monsters was before him, and no matter how many times he fired his gun, it didn't do any good. All he needed now to make the horror complete was to open his mouth to scream and not have any sound come out.

Peter felt trembles going through his entire body and knew that he had never been so scared in his entire life.

For months, since the deaths of his mother and sister, he had lived with a terrible emptiness inside. Nothing had been able to touch him. Now he wished he could go back to that because he kind of thought maybe the fear would kill him.

On first seeing Xander, he had almost let himself believe the harmless mask, but now he knew better. He may have looked human, but Xander was nothing but another monster.

"I really didn't think you had it in you to shoot someone," Xander said, "but it looks like you've actually got some balls, kid. Kind of makes me proud or something."

Peter's fingers began to tighten, but in a blur of motion Xander was just RIGHT THERE and the gun was flying out of his hand. He didn't even hear it fall, his eyes caught in warm chocolate orbs that wanted to suck him right in.

There wasn't the overriding pull he had heard about a vampire's thrall, just human eyes, but there was a wealth of experience there that was nearly as overwhelming. It was as though Xander had seen and done things that he could only imagine, that some darker piece of his soul had always wanted to be a part of.

Without being aware of what he was doing, he felt himself stepping closer to Xander, drawn in by those eyes, drowning in dark chocolate that seemed to pulsate as it was steadily swallowed by a glowing green that was quickly becoming the whole of his world.

"Peter... Peter... Peter WAKE UP!"

A rough hand clamped down on his shoulder, jerking him backward, away from that consuming gaze.

He gasped for breath on the tail end of a sob, his entire body shuddering. His hands clutched at the front of Edward's shirt and he pressed himself against his stepfather's chest. "I'm sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to look into his eyes.

"Pull yourself together Peter," Edward said, his voice hard.

Peter jerked a not and forced himself to step back, away. He was almost a man. It was time for him to stand on his own two feet instead of cringing away from shadows like a child.

"That's so fucking cute," Xander said, his voice a sick echo of the young man he used to be.

Looking in Xander's general direction, careful not to meet his gaze, Peter forced himself to think of Xander as the corpse he was. Animated and walking around, but he was nothing but a dead body.

It should have made things easier. It didn't.

* * *

Jean-Claude was going to kill him. He was supposed to keep an eye on Xander, but somehow his charge had managed to disappear on him.

Brett drew in deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "Where the fuck could he have gone?"

Alec C. shook his head. "Who knows. That guy's crazy. He's probably off eating babies or something."

"You better watch saying that kind of thing when the boss is around. He'll rip you a new one, literally." If there was one thing Jean-Claude was touchy about it was anyone disrespecting Xander.

Though anyone that fucked around with the Master of the City's lover pretty much deserved all the bad stuff that happened to them for being so stupid. And that was just the bad stuff Jean-Claude would have done to them.

Even in the short time he'd been guarding Xander, Brett had already picked up on the fact that there was something very not right with the guy. He was a definite devil in disguise.

Racing after Alec C. toward the fire door that opened at the rear of the club, Brett wondered if he was going to die.

"And where are you hurrying off to so quickly?" a smooth, French accented voice asked from behind him, sending a surge of dread throughout his body. "And where is my Xander?"

Brett turned slowly to face the Master of the City, carefully keeping his eyes downturned. "I'm sorry, Master. We don't know how he did it, but he somehow managed to get away from us. We don't know where he's at."

The vampire's lips tightened. "I should kill you... but I know Xander too well. If we do not find him soon you will be punished for your incompetence in a way to match my anger."

Brett knew he was looking at a lot of pain in the near future. Xander was very important to Jean-Claude and he was one of the ones to lose him.

There was no being forgiven for that kind of stupid.

 

It was almost a physical relief when they found Xander in the back alley behind Danse Macare, until he realized who exactly he was facing down.

Jean-Claude kept dossiers of the most important and deadly bounty hunters, assassins, and crazies in the world, and the man Xander was currently in a beef with... well, he was at the top of the list.

Death definitely didn't look like the kind of guy that would have such a descriptive name, but there it was. His body counts were higher than Anita's, though his take down ratio of old time masters was smaller. Still, he was almost on a par with the man simply known as "the Exterminator," who treated vampires and weres like bugs and killed them by the dozens.

Xander didn't seem too worried that he was facing Death, but he was crazy. And Brett figured he was scared enough for all of them, because he knew what would happen to him if Xander died.

* * *

There was something so fun about Edward. All that potential for violence contained in the body of a slender blond man that didn't look nearly as dangerous as he really was.

Sometimes Xander thought he got a little too much fun screwing with the guy, then he'd remember that he just didn't give a damn. Consequences and conscience were for other people.

He loved the whole being a soulless monster thing. It was just so him.

"Geez Edward, you really need to relax. Maybe some Ex-Lax will help you uncork that tight ass of yours," he said, laughing.

Edward didn't quite growl, but Xander felt that it was a very near thing. "I don't know who you think you are... but it's time for you to face reality."

Xander grinned at him. "You're so fucking serious it makes me want to vomit." The grin disappeared as though it had never been, wiping his face completely clean, expressionless. "You always gotta make everything into this big kind of drama, huh? It's all 'I'm gonna kill you' this, and 'How dare you take my name in vain?' that. It's really kind of pathetic, don't you think? You'd think you'd be past all that by now, Eddie."

He could feel the tension building and could practically feel the coiled spring intensity of Edward's muscles. The man was totally ready to try blowing him away and all it did was make him grin more.

There was nothing as delicious as the honey-sweet flavor of danger.

"Alexander," the name rolled smoothly off that silver tongue. "What are you getting into now, Alexander?"

Xander turned his head a bare centimeter, enough to see Jean-Claude out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't dumb enough to taunt then completely turn away. "I'm not getting into trouble or anything," he said, putting on the innocent. "I just ran into Edward here and thought we might have a chance to catch up, you know. Chitchat about a bit of this and a bit of that. I was totally being good."

"That I highly doubt," Jean-Claude said, gliding closer. Xander saw his bodyguards Alec C. and Brett lurking behind with Jean-Claude's and it made him want to laugh. They totally looked like bad asses, but he could smell the fear on them, the knowledge that they were going to get an ass chewing in the not-too-near future. It always gave him the giggles to know that they depended on him for their future happiness, especially considering he was such an asshole.

"Ah, you're not mad at me, are you Jeannie?" he purred, jutting his hip out a little and putting on a bit of the seductive, which was actually harder than it looked since he refused to turn away from facing Edward and his little minion.

There came that laugh, the one that sent a cool thrill down his spine and almost instantly switched him from a zero on the aroused meter to a hundred and ten. "I could never be angry at you, mon amour. Though perhaps I am a bit... irritated, yes, definitely irritated with the way that you do not seem to care for your own safety."

"Come on, like there's really anyone that's going to put the hurt down on me," Xander said derisively.

"And yet, Monsieur Edward seems to have shot you several times with his large caliber pistol," Jean-Claude said.

Xander shrugged, pursing his lips in a kiss at the assassin in question. "He didn't hurt me though, did he? It would take a heck of a lot more than he's got to give to bring the permanent ouch down on me."

"Still, I am growing concerned that you don't seem to care about your own safety. That's why I gave you bodyguards, yet you insist on leaving them and going off on your own. It makes me a bit disappointed."

"Oh, come on, like I need them to protect me," Xander scoffed. "I'm perfectly all right by my..."

He had to admit that Edward really was pretty speedy... for a human.

Probably thinking he was distracted by his pseudo-argument with Jean-Claude, Edward took the opportunity to pull a mini-uzi out of his jacket. It was actually quite impressive really, especially how the boy--Peter--had taken Edward's largely subliminal clues and was pulling a sawed off shotgun out of his jacket.

Xander kind of felt like he was in an episode of Highlander--he honestly had to wonder how they had fit such over-sized weapons under their clothes without anyone noticing.

He was going to ask them how they did it... if they managed to survive the night.

* * *

Things were definitely getting out of control and Brett kind of had the feeling that with the way things were going he wasn't going to get a gold pension watch when the time came. He was just going to be shit out of luck.

When Death pulled out a mini-uzi and began firing, Brett was pretty sure that things had just gone to hell in a hand-basket.

Xander didn't even try to dodge out of the way. He just wore that insane grin and let the bullets strike his body while his eyes glittered madly. "If it didn't work the first time, did you really think it was going to work now?"

It wasn't quite fear on Death's face, but probably the nearest he ever got to showing it. "What the hell are you?"

Xander laughed. "Everything you never wanted to meet on a dark night. And maybe something you've always dreamed of. Do I make you wanna fuck me?" He licked his lips. "You wanna, don't you, Eddie? Don't you think it would be fucking awesome to thrust your great big throbbing co..."

"ALEXANDER!"

Brett was actually a little relieved to hear the Master yell at his boytoy. There was no telling what Death would have done if Xander had completed that sentence, but it probably wouldn't have been anything close to good or nice.

"Geez, Jean, way to ruin all the fun. Edward wasn't offended, were you Eddie?"

Death took a slow step back away from the obviously insane vampire. He wasn't looking scared or anything, just extremely aware of the situation at hand. "I think we're going to go," he said, obviously addressing Jean-Claude, but never looking away from Xander's face. "We can finish this sometime later."

"Sure," Xander said. "You go and grow yourself a pair, and I'll be waiting for you to visit me."

Jean-Claude came gliding forward, one eye on the mini-uzi in Death's hand, and carefully reached out to grasp Xander's shoulder, pulling him back into his body. "Perhaps next time Alexander will be better behaved."

Xander snorted, totally unrepentant. but Jean-Claude's censuring hand on his shoulder kept him from saying whatever it was he was thinking. Which was probably a really good thing.

There was no one out there that could ever say Xander wasn't almost stupidly brave. The guy just didn't seem to care about anything except Jean-Claude, and by extension Asher.

The world was full of monsters, and being one of them meant that Brett knew what he was talking about, but Xander was coming from a whole other level. And it was actually pretty frightening that something like him actually existed.

Listening to the sound of Death and his little apprentice scuttling off into the night, Brett had a moment of relief that things hadn't escalated to the level he had thought it would.

Then Jean-Claude turned on him and Alec C with a violet fire in his eyes. "And where were you two while Alexander was facing down an assassin who specializes in killing vampires?"

Brett felt a sinking feeling in his belly and knew things weren't quite over for him and Alec C just yet.

* * *

Running off into the night should have made him feel like a wimp, but Peter knew it was the right thing to do.

Things had been going completely pear-shaped and if they had stayed it would have been a very ugly situation all around.

"A strategic retreat in front of insurmountable odds is never a cowardly action," Edward said, his breath coming in perfectly even puffs that matched his effortless stride. "We'll regroup and try again when we're better prepared and better armed."

Peter didn't even try to speak--he was breathing too hard to even bother--just nodded his head.

Yes, they would do a little research, rearm themselves with something a little more potent than pistols, shotguns, and mini-uzis. Then they would come back and send Xander and his all-too human looking face straight to hell where he belonged.

* * *

"The Little Lion has met the Big Bad Wolf," she announced, running stroking hands through her lover's luxurious black hair. "But the Lion is too broken to know what he is yet. He hides in the shadows and plays at being a little boy. He's so afraid..." She giggled. "He tastes like apples and momma's tears. Daddy's cold in the ground and the little boy is all alone with the monsters and the nightmares and the gun in his hand."

"What are you looking at, little tree?" her lover asked, her own hands carefully braiding the hair of her favorite doll.

"I was watching the Hungry Boy. He was playing with his toys and found a new toy soldier he's never met before. A Little Lion cub not full grown, dreaming of what he will be, but it's all so unknown."

"Maybe we should rest now," her lover said.

"We're going to be in Jean-Claude's kingdom soon. He's a pretty prince that wants more than anything to be the new king. Daddy's going to show him what happens to those that go against the natural order of things."

"Yes he is. And darling William will get to see us dance in the blood of the moon."

The girl leaned forward to nuzzle her cheek against her lover's. "Can we play forks and spoons now? I want to be a pretty, shiny spoon."

The woman laughed. "We will play anything you like, my darling. It's hours yet before we reach the new world."

"It's the old world to me," the girl said. "I lived in the land of the sun when I was alive, remember?" She could still kind of remember the before time, back when she was a real girl, before she had found everything she was looking for, a love that would never die.

A school trip to Italy and her whole world had become something new and magical. She wasn't that drab little doll nerd anymore. She was a beautiful tree, and her lover was the nighttime dew, coating every bit of her, from the outside in.

"I love you, you know," she said.

"Yes. Just the way you were always meant to."

* * *

Anita could feel Jean-Claude's worry down the Marks and it burned her a little to know that that worry wasn't for her. Ever since Xander came around... the dynamic of all of her relationships had changed, and not in ways that benefited her.

When she felt a flash of Jean-Claude's fear, she had to wonder for a second if maybe Edward had managed to put an end to Xander. But that fear quickly faded and it was less than fifteen minutes later that she was experiencing the echoes of others' passion jolting across her nerves.

She grit her teeth hard and slumped down further on her couch.

For the first time in a long time she regretted her night off and though it was probably a terrible thing she couldn't help wishing that maybe Dolph would call with a case. Then at least she'd have something to take her away from herself.

Once again, she wondered where Nathaniel and the others were. They hadn't been by all night, which was just a little weird. Though it wasn't like she owned them or anything. Really.

She sighed again.

* * *

Nathaniel was floating in a world of endorphins and spent pleasure.

Vaguely he was aware of Micah and Zane trying to get him to his feet, but they really didn't matter to him at all. Right at this moment, all he could feel was the echoes of pleasure vibrating throughout his whole body.

Xander had long since left him, but the mark of his passions was burned forever into Nathaniel's skin, and it made him glad.

It felt as though Xander had reached right into the very heart of him and rewired everything that had always been so fucked up about him. And even he couldn't honestly say that he had been made better, but he had definitely been changed by the experience.

"Come on, Nathaniel, we really need to go now," Micah said in his most gentle voice.

Nathaniel didn't consciously resist the hands trying to pull him up, but he didn't help them either. He just laid their limply, so wrapped up in the memory of bliss that he didn't want to do anything else but wallow in all that he had felt.

"Nathaniel, can you hear me?" Micah sounded worried now. His hands on Nathaniel's shoulders squeezed tighter, forcing him to pay attention.

Nathaniel blinked, knowing that if he didn't show that he was still here, none of them would leave him alone. "I... fine," he murmured. "Just feel so go-ood."

Micah let out a relieved puff of breath. "He's going to be all right," he said.

"Well, then let's get him the hell out of here before Xander comes back. I really don't want to watch a repeat," Zane said.

"Yeah."

Nathaniel mewled a little in protest, wanting to stay where he was lying, but they wouldn't let him drift back into sleep. They'd been here too long already; should have left that morning, and now it was almost one in the morning of the next day.

They'd been trying to get him to leave for hours now, but he'd just been unable to let go of all that he'd experienced. He'd fought them tooth and nail, knowing that they wouldn't use their full strength against him, not after they had seen his transcendence.

He knew that all the things he had done with Xander had shocked and horrified them. Sure, they'd all experienced some form of rape and horrible torture at various points in their pasts, but what Xander had done to him... It had been the most beautiful torment he had ever experienced, so life changing that even now he thought he could still feel the vampire's touch against his skin.

They didn't understand that the pain made him feel real. They didn't understand that most of the time he sleepwalked through what he laughably called his life, never quite able to touch anything and know that he somehow affected the world around him. It was like he was constantly in a state of dreaming.

But when Xander was peeling the flesh from his bones, skewering him with his cock, devouring his blood and maybe his very soul... the pain made him somehow whole. He felt every instance of the exquisite agony, and it was the most wonderful thing ever. And he wanted more.

He didn't want to leave the bed that was still stained with his blood, tears, and both their semen. He didn't want to leave the memory behind because maybe he would never be allowed to have Xander again. Maybe he was forever to be denied the heights of ultimate pleasure.

Nathaniel knew that some people thought he was fairly simple. They looked at him, and even though he tried his best to get them to believe he was real, they only saw him as some kind of poseable doll. Especially Anita.

He knew that she didn't really see him as a person at all. He was her plaything, solely created to do her bidding. He fucked her when she wanted it, cooked and cleaned so she didn't have to, and when she didn't want to play with him he retreated back into his box to wait for her to want him again.

It hurt to admit that he had tied all his hopes and dreams to someone that was so utterly selfish. She thought that she could top him, never understanding that there was more to a proper relationship than him just constantly giving so that she could take and take and take.

She was supposed to take care of him, protect him from the world and from himself. She was supposed to be his strength when he was too weak to stand on his own feet.

Instead, she was so wrapped up in her own wants and needs that he had ceased to even be a person to her anymore. She had forgotten that Nathaniel Graison even existed. All she ever saw was Nathaniel, her sweet little pet that was willing to do whatever she wanted and not demand anything.

Once upon a time he had hoped that she would grow into a real top. That she would give him everything that he not just wanted, but needed. But it had never happened and he had felt himself fading away a bit more with each passing day until he was sure he was about to disappear entirely.

But a night with Xander had brought him back into his own flesh. So for the first time in years, he actually felt alive. And he really didn't want to let that go.

Those insistent hands were on him again and finally he just gave in to their demands, let himself be lifted and carried away.

More than anything he wanted to stay where Xander had left him, wanted to be there waiting when he came back. But he had to force himself to know better, to not be so stupid all the time.

Xander had left his mark upon him, not just on his skin, but on everything that he was. So he had to believe that they would meet up again, that he would experience the magic at least one more time before he died.

He had to have hope, or else he would never be real again.

* * *

Xander knew he had been a bad boy and that Jean-Claude wasn't exactly happy with him.

Maybe he should have felt repentant. Maybe he should have been pacing the floor with guilt and worry eating away at his belly. But hey, that whole lack of a soul thing kept him pretty much on the rosy side of things.

He figured he was going to be yelled at, punished for being such a bad, bad boy. And he was fairly slavering with anticipation of the punishment to come.

Lounging on the limo's backseat, he could see the driver peeking at him through the rear view mirror. It made him want to put on a little show, but he knew Jean-Claude was coming and he didn't want to make the other vampire really mad.

Just the fun kind of mad that led to awesome sex and many happies for all the good little Xander's of the world.

He felt a smirk forming on his lips, but quickly wiped it away when the door opened.

Jean-Claude's face was expressionless, but Xander could see the delicious burn of fury in his eyes. It made him get hard in his pants.

"Hey baby, what's happening?" Xander licked his lips.

"Shut up," Jean-Claude said, slamming the door behind him.

"Please don't be mad at me," Xander pleaded, making his eyes go as puppy-kicked as possible. He knew Jean-Claude had a soft spot for fake-innocent Xander. It made the other vampire all hot.

Jean-Claude just looked at him for long moment, fire burning in his eyes. Then he reached out his hand and pushed the button that raised the partition between them and the driver.

With rough hands, Jean-Claude grabbed Xander's legs and jerked them apart. "Do you understand how disappointed I am in you right now?" he demanded, going down on his own knees.

Xander let his hips be jerked off the seat when Jean-Claude ripped his pants open, superhuman strength splitting the zipper with no real effort. "Don't be too mad at me," he mock-pleaded, though he couldn't completely keep the delight out of his voice.

"I told you to shut up," Jean-Claude growled, leaning forward.

Looking down at his lover's head in his lap, Xander smiled and let himself go with the moment.

It was nice to know that his breaking the rules and being naughty was as much of a plus in this dimension as it had been in his own. He liked being an object of desire.

He groaned and tilted his head backward, pressing the back of his head against the seat back. "Ooh, you know I love you, right?"

Jean-Claude mumbled something that might have been agreement, but it was too hard to tell, and Xander wasn't even listening anyway.

If there was one person with a perfect mouth in the entire universe, it had to be Jean-Claude.

"So nice... beautiful... mine," he moaned.

* * *

There were moments in his new life that really caused Asher to wonder whether he should be jealous or not.

He knew that Jean-Claude was completely wrapped up in Xander, and he couldn't hold it against him. There was just something so utterly charming about the younger vampire. Still, it kind of hurt not to be the center of someone's world himself. But even if that never happened again, he was closer to happy than he had been for most of his life, since Julianna had been ripped away from him.

Neither Jean-Claude or Xander seemed to care that he was covered in grotesque scars--sure, the physical ones had been smoothed away, but he could still feel the metaphysical ones burned down to his soul. Yet they looked at him and actually seemed to see him and nothing else.

He had been self-conscious about what had been done to him for the longest time. It was almost painful to let that go, but he just couldn't hold onto it anymore, not when there were two gorgeous men constantly telling him that he had an amazing amount of worth.

They made him feel real.


	2. Two

Things were settling back into a routine. Most people would have been happy, but Xander was just bored.

So it was almost a relief to him when Jean-Claude announced the fact that a few Council representatives were going to be making an appearance.

Xander had been curious about the mysterious Council ever since he had first heard of them. It wasn't like he had a death wish or anything, but he did like to have some excitement in his life. And there was nothing more exciting than danger.

The fact that Jean-Claude had gone to some extreme lengths to keep him from ever coming across a Council Member only made it that much more curious and exciting. He truly wanted to see what was going to happen next.

Some would have said his curiosity was a fault... he just thought it was part of what made him so special.

"What's got you so smiley?" Jason asked, appearing at his shoulder.

Lazily rotating his head, Xander gave him a lizard smile. "Just thinking about all the fun I'm going to have."

"Should I be prepared to hide the women and children?" Jason was dressed in black leather pants with most of the ass cut out and a shirt made from silver strings.

"They'd take one look at you and run the other way." Xander reached out to run his finger down Jason's arm, liking the bump of the strings against his fingertips. "Those pants are awful."

"Mon coeur, you wound me with your words." There was the wash of power that always flowed before Jean-Claude, a rush of that expensive perfume he favored, then the man himself appeared in the doorway with a charming smile. "You know that I choose all the clothes for our charming Jason."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Well, you chose badly this time. He's going to be a health hazard if he sits down anywhere."

"Hey, I'm perfectly clean!" Jason crossed his arms.

"Sure you are," Xander scoffed. "Your bare ass is hanging out all over the place, but no one has to worry about disinfecting anything. I'm surprised no one has called the health inspectors on you."

Xander glanced over at Jean-Claude and caught the older vampire with a fond smile curving his lips. It made something inside him relax a little; the coming of the Council representatives had put Jean-Claude on edge.

Just because I don't have a soul doesn't mean I can't take care of the monster I love, Xander thought, keeping his own smile secret as he stood up from the recliner with a stretch of his arms over his head.

"I'm hungry," he said.

"Well, we cannot have that, now can we?" Jean-Claude held out his hand and Xander didn't hesitate to stalk across the room and take it. "Let's go find you something delicious, n'est pas?"

Xander smiled and let himself be led from the room. He snorted a laugh at Jason's bereaved sounding, "What about me? So rude..." behind them. Like Jason really wanted to be there when they ate some people.

The vampires of this world were so civilized when they Fed. So it was maybe a little understandable why Jason would get a bit freaked out when he saw Xander go all demon face. He was used to the kind of vamps that stayed beautiful all the time--the only exception being the rotters. And those guys were just gross. Like chaos demons to the nth degree.

"We should get Jason a girlfriend," Xander mused.

"And why is that?" Jean-Claude was genuinely interested.

He slanted a curious glance toward Xander, who shrugged. "He seems pretty tightly wound to me and it's always nice to have some kind of leverage over someone. Family, friends, favored pet, they all work good."

"That is terrible," Jean-Claude said, sounding more amused than censoring. "Promise me you will not say such things when others are around."

Xander huffed and rolled his eyes. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know. I do know how to behave in front of the sheeple so they don't panic."

"Perhaps it would be better for you not to call them such things," Jean-Claude said.

Xander stuck his tongue out at him. "You can't change me. 'I yam what I yam,' as Popeye would say. And those people out there... they're definitely sheep that let themselves be led to the slaughter. Why else would they volunteer to be here?"

"Because we are civilized monsters." Jean-Claude reached out to take Xander's hand, turning it this way and that beneath his examining gaze before twining their fingers together.

Jean-Claude had a thing for the romance. He dreamed of soft sheets and romantic strolls down moonlit beaches. It was the kind of sentimental crap that Xander's demon scoffed at, all growly and disgusted, but Xander was willing to put up with all that for Jean-Claude.

"It must be love," Xander laughed, giving Jean-Claude's hand a squeeze.

"What?" Jean-Claude looked at him in surprise.

"Nothing," Xander grinned at him, "just thinking out loud."

He had to admit that his feelings for Jean-Claude had only grown during his time on this world. He was soulless, but he could still love. It was just a darker, more terrible kind of love than most people wanted to be the focus of.

Jean-Claude took him to the Lounge. It was a large room where all the werethings got to hang out and relax as they waited to be needed. It was like the vampires' private pantry while they were at the Circus. Blood on tap.

Jean-Claude rarely visited the Lounge, but he knew that Xander liked to pick his own meal. It was that thoughtfulness that Xander really enjoyed.

Xander smiled and gave Jean-Claude's hand a squeeze. It seemed that with every night that passed, Jean-Claude became more and more the vampire king Xander knew he could be.

It was only a matter of time now.

* * *

The Lounge was their place to relax and retreat from the world while still being available at all times. There was the perpetual card game going on in one corner, and the TV was blaring some children's show loudly, and though they weren't allowed to get drunk, there were several open beers.

Nathaniel had been invited to play poker, but he thought that might have been because they all knew how terrible he was at the game. Instead he was curled up in an armchair flipping through a slightly wrinkled magazine. He thought it might have belonged to Jason first, though his scent had largely faded from the pages.

In another time and place, he probably would have been at Anita's house waiting for her to give him a little face time, but he'd shaken his head at Micah and made his escape. It was probably cowardly of him to leave his Nimir-raj to make his excuses, but he was afraid of Anita's reaction.

She wasn't good with rejection and from all that he knew of her, her first reaction to most every situation was violence.

Nathaniel didn't want to deal with any of that. Hence his spending his free time at the Lounge and sleeping over at Vivian's when he just had to get out of the Circus. She'd been cool with the idea of letting him stay, and he'd been careful to keep his presence in her life small. Altogether it was the most peaceful time he'd spent since he'd been bitten.

Life on the street had been misery, then life as a wereleopard had been even worse. There were some days when he was surprised to find himself still alive. But recently it seemed as though things were getting better. He felt as though he might be growing up, as weird as that was. A strange fog was lifting from his mind and he felt as though he could see clearly for the first time in a long time.

He was grateful to Anita for keeping him alive and helping him through some of the fucked up things plaguing his life, but he felt as though he'd outgrown her. She wasn't the strength he wanted to lean against, and he got the sense that somewhere out there was someone that would really and truly see him, warts and all.

Anita was not that person. To her, he was just some burden she'd accepted responsibility for. She used him for sex when she was horny, food when she was hungry, and a presence to rail against when she was feeling lonely. But he doubted that she ever looked at him and saw him, Nathaniel Graison, and not just another problem for her to handle.

There was a tingle on the back of his neck and he rubbed it with his hand, a faint frown pulling his brows together. Then his eyes were drawn to the opening door as Jean-Claude walked in with Xander at his side.

Nathaniel's breath caught. He hadn't seen Xander up close since *that* night, yet here he was. Grinning with all his teeth showing and a challenge in his eyes.

As Jean-Claude's pomme de sang, Nathaniel was the only one that didn't go into full submission position on the floor.

Jean-Claude never visited the Lounge. When he was Hungry he sent for a donor. So for him to be here, Nathaniel could nearly hear the others panicking like it was the end of the world. They were wondering what terrible wrong they had done to bring Jean-Claude himself to punish them.

Nathaniel looked at Xander, his throat tight with desire. "Did you come down for a bite to eat?" He could practically feel Xander's teeth breaking his skin.

Xander smirked at him. "Is that what you want, pretty?"

Some childish part of Nathaniel wanted to tell him no, he didn't need to be dominated and half destroyed. But that was a lie he couldn't tell.

"Yes," he breathed, his gaze locked on Xander's face.

"All right then," Xander said, holding out his hand. "You come with me."

Nathaniel found himself across the room with no idea how he'd gotten there. All he knew was that his hand was enclosed in Xander's and his heart was beating fast with excitement.

He barely noticed as Jean-Claude chose three other donors. Xander was touching him and he never wanted to be away from him.

That spot on the back of his neck pulsed with his heartbeat and his skin felt hot and tight. He wanted to rub himself against Xander, to grind the scent of Xander so far into his skin that no one could deny their connection.

The cruel twist to Xander's lips said he knew what Nathaniel wanted and he planned to torment him about it.

Nathaniel ached with the want.


	3. Three

Xander couldn't help the pleasure he felt at Nathaniel choosing him again. He might have thought the man would run off scared after the experience they'd already shared, but he'd gone with it all jelly cool.

He couldn't help wondering how hard it would be to break Nathaniel down to nothing. He wasn't going to do it, but having the option available gave him happy feelings.

Xander grinned. He could see Nathaniel becoming his favorite toy. Because no matter what he did, Nathaniel would always come begging for more.

"What are you thinking?"

He felt a jolt of surprise and looked at Jean-Claude. He'd been deep into picturing all the things he wanted to do to Nathaniel, all the limits he wanted to push.

"I was imagining the games we could play," he said.

Jean-Claude still wore a curious look, but he'd learned that there were some questions it was better not to ask Xander. The answers were hardly ever to his civilized monster tastes.

"Come, let's make ourselves more comfortable before you indulge yourself," Jean-Claude said. He stroked Xander's arm and it was only a little possessive. His eyes were locked to Xander's face and he spared their human juice boxes no attention.

Xander preened. He liked being in the spotlight. Liked being the center of someone's world.

He let Jean-Claude lead him to a squishy couch, all overstuffed dark brown leather that felt like human skin. He curled into Jean-Claude's side when the older vampire sat beside him.

"Along came a spider that sat down beside her," Xander whispered.

"What was that?" Jean-Claude asked.

"Nothing," Xander said. He held out a hand to the first of his pretties. "Come away, oh human child, to the waters and the wild." He laughed, a wild sound.

* * *

Edward and Peter were back in her living room again, though most of the arrogance was gone. Peter looked younger than ever curled up on her couch hugging his knees tight to his chest. Edward was pacing back and forth, well away from the windows with their curtains drawn tight.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Peter here got his first taste of Alexander." Edward said it like it was no big deal, but it was obvious to her that he was a bit shook up. He had that look on his face like he was mentally recapping the night and figuring out contingency plans for the next face off. He'd never been the kind of man to back down from a fight.

"Maybe you should back off of him," she suggested. It was like biting into pennies, but she'd learned some restraint in the last few years. Diving headfirst into a problem had never gotten her very much, and that was with the backing of a supernatural constitution. She didn't want to see Peter dead because of Edward's pride.

He gave her a flat-eyed look, as though he had heard what she was thinking. "You might be right, but I still want to give it one more look around."

Anita shook her head. "The more I see of him, the less comfortable I feel around him. He scares the shit out of me."

"Whoa, blunt." His lips curved up, but his eyes stayed cold and hard. "I promise that I'm not about to whip out a flamethrower against your boyfriend, Anita. My only concern is with Alexander."

"He's not my boyfriend, not anymore," Anita said. "It hurts to admit it, but I'm sure I've been replaced by Xander. So our friendship won't buy you a lot of leeway if you go head to head with Xander and Jean-Claude gets pissed off about it."

"I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Don't worry about me," Edward said.

"I'm not. I'm worried about Peter. He's just a kid. He doesn't deserve to be drawn into the kind of trouble you're bringing down on your head by messing around with Xander."

"He wasn't like anything I've ever heard of before. It wasn't his eyes that caught me, but his voice. He spoke, and there was no way I couldn't listen." Peter didn't lift his cheek from where it rested on his knees. His eyes were focused somewhere on the floor. "I felt like he could crush me at any moment and there was nothing I could do about it."

Edward slanted him a worried glance, but didn't offer any real comfort. "When the time comes, he'll go down like any other monster. We just might have to rethink our methods of taking him out, that's all."

A shiver went through Peter, but he just pressed his chin against his knees. "It felt like he could crush me and there was nothing I could do to stop him. He spoke, and there was no way I couldn't listen."

Anita bit her lip. Xander was frightening not just because he was a vampire, but because he was different from every other vampire she'd come across. There was something hungry in his eyes, but he was the kind of monster that liked to play with his food.

"You need to get Peter out of here. If Xander decides that he wants him ... I don't know if we could stop him," she said.

"We're not going to make a move against him," Edward said. "We're just gathering intelligence right now."

"So you can make a move against him later. Edward, he's not the kind of guy you mess around with. He won't just kill you if he catches you."

"Then we won't get caught," he said firmly.

Anita closed her eyes with a weary sigh. He refused to listen. Refused to learn the lesson that she'd had pounded into her so painfully.

She didn't think he was going to survive if he went up against Xander. Not just because Xander was a bad ass, but because Jean-Claude was so wrapped up in him that Xander only had to ask and Jean-Claude would do whatever he wanted. Including gifting Edward and Peter to him if he wanted them.

She'd let herself start to believe that Jean-Claude wasn't like the other monsters. Xander had taught her different.

And Peter was going to be the one to pay the price if Edward wasn't willing to back down when he had the chance.

When did it get like this? she wondered. When did I stop fearing the monsters? And when did all the fear come back?

There were no answers. Just silence.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some mention of Peter's rape in Obsidian Butterfly (?) -- it's something he's still dealing with.

It was good that Xander was off with his playthings when the messenger arrived. Because Xander robbed Jean-Claude of his rationality, turned him unpredictable in worrisome ways, made him both stronger and more vulnerable at the same time.

Asher made plans in his head about how they were going to get Xander out of the way during the visit of the Council's representatives. He should be kept as far away from anything resembling diplomacy as possible, his bluntness a weapon that could turn on them all.

The messenger was a female vampire with long brown hair that hung straight down her back in a glossy wave. Her face was porcelain smooth with large green eyes and cupid bow lips. She was beautiful in her pale pink gown, but malevolence radiated from her in an almost physical cloud.

"I was expecting to meet with your master." Her eyes blazed at him, solid green with her power.

Asher made a moue with his lips. "It is most unfortunate that we did not receive notice of your early arrival. I am sure Jean-Claude would have been happy to greet you if he had only been notified of the time when you would appear."

"Your cheap words mean nothing." She waved her hand at him as though shooing away a fly. "My Master is here, and yet your master is not waiting for him. Does Jean-Claude take the Council so lightly?"

"Of course he does not. We have made many preparations in readiness for his arrival. It is unfortunate that you have come a week early." Asher held himself perfectly still in the face of her rising ire; he could feel it pressing against his skin, trying to crawl through him, ready to rip him apart. It was an unpleasant sensation he could have done without. "Still, I have ordered rooms prepared for you all. I will have someone guide you, and tomorrow Jean-Claude will be ready to host you."

"We do not need your hand outs. We have our own place to rest." She swept her hand down the front of her dress with a sharp jerk of her hand. "Expect my Master tomorrow. Make sure that Jean-Claude is prepared to receive us. You would not like to displease my Master."

Asher gave her a bow of his head. "As you will."

He watched her leave, two muscular werehyenas trailing after, and grit his teeth at the rudeness. She hadn't even bothered to introduce herself, as though the identity of her master was enough. And maybe it was.

There were very few willing to face down William Pratt, and as far as Asher knew, none of them had survived the honor.

He sighed heavily and allowed his shoulders to slump as he walked over to Jean-Claude's desk and settled onto the executive desk chair, the leather enfolding him gently.

The Council was once again sticking its nose into St. Louis. And this time they'd sent their enforcer in the name of diplomacy.

* * *

Xander was becoming fond of Nathaniel in spite of himself. There was just something nice about such uncomplicated submission. Someone that would happily accept any torment Xander devised and even beg for more. It was a delight.

"Why don't you show me what you can do?" he purred.

Nathaniel gave him a questioning look, though he couldn't speak around Xander's cock in his mouth.

"I like a little pain, just a very little," Xander urged.

He could practically see the gears shifting in Nathaniel's head as he tried to figure out what Xander wanted and the risks involved. A little nibble of teeth was fine, too much and Xander would happily rip Nathaniel's intestines out.

Lucky for Nathaniel, he made the right choice.

Xander squeezed his hands around the bed rails, feeling the metal warp to the shape of his fingers. He thrust into Nathaniel's throat, all-out fucking his face, and in between thrusts Nathaniel would carefully allow the tips of his incisors to prick against Xander's glans. A bit of pressure along with the liquid heat of Nathaniel swallowing his cock, and Xander was coming down the man's throat in quick spurts.

When he was done, he pulled out and wiped his cock on Nathaniel's cheeks, leaving streaks of cum against the pale skin. "Good boy," he said.

Nathaniel looked debauched, his lips swollen red and his pupils blown wide. He gazed at Xander with so much raw  emotion that it made the monster part of Xander want to break him just because he could, the fault lines laid bare.

Xander flopped on his back and rested his hands on his stomach. "I might decide to keep you. What do you think about that?"

Tentative hands pressed against Xander's shoulder, and when Xander didn't push him away Nathaniel rested his head on Xander's chest and snuggled close. "Please. I would love to belong to you. Anything you want."

"Hm." Xander hummed in pleasure. It would be nice to have a plaything all his own. Plus the thought of Anita's reaction made him want to kick his heels in delight.

He raked his hand through Nathaniel's hair, tugging and pulling until the man mewled in pain. "You're mine now. I'll get you a collar later."

He smirked when he saw how hard Nathaniel's cock got at the word "collar." He'd never met someone so desperate to be owned. It gave him a sense of power that he enjoyed.

"So, what was it like being Anita's bitch?" he asked, just to to see the way Nathaniel twitched.

"I wasn't her bitch," Nathaniel said, and oh ho, there was a definite hint of the bitters there.

"You wanted to be though, didn't you? You wanted her to claim you,  own you, mark you so deep that people only had to look at you to see who you belonged to."

Nathaniel groaned, his cock leaking. He was well-trained and didn't touch himself or even move without Xander's permission.

"Well let me tell you something: I'm selfish," Xander said. "What belongs to me, belongs to me. I'll let Jean-Claude and Asher play with you, but from now on you've got no say in who else uses your dirty little hole or your cocksucking mouth. You belong to me. Do you understand?" He twisted his hand in Nathaniel's hair.

"Yes!" Nathaniel cried, and he was dribbling precome now, his body quivering with need. "I belong to you."

Xander grinned and rolled over on top of Nathaniel, pressing his thigh  hard against Nathaniel's cock. "Who do you belong to?"

"You!"

"That's right." Xander's face shifted and he shoved his mouth against Nathaniel's neck,  ripping at the flesh there until blood was covering them both. "You're my bitch."

Nathaniel wailed as he came, helplessly thrusting against Xander's leg. His control couldn't hold against receiving something he'd wanted for so long: a place to belong.

Which didn't mean Xander wasn't going to punish him for coming without permission. But Nathaniel would like it.

"Such a good bitch."

* * *

Peter was worried. Anita had sounded serious with her warnings, enough that the fear had crawled into his head and made itself a little home.

Edward was certain that they were going to be all right. He was trusting his weapons and his years of experience to see them through. While Peter wanted to believe, he couldn't quite tame the worry that they were making a mistake. They should pack up and go home, rethink the plan and try again when they were better prepared. Peter didn't want to be such a liability.

Instead they were skulking around the Blood District at eleven in the morning. The streets were pretty empty at this time of day, which didn't keep them from sticking out like sore thumbs. Edward said it meant they had to be slicker about not drawing attention. It was easier to meld into a crowd at night than to walk around in the open during the day.

It wasn't like they were doing anything illegal at the moment. Ted Forester was a registered bounty hunter and they were tracking a bail jumper named Cyrus Muldondy. He was their excuse for coming to St Louis in the first place, a vampire with a predilection for teenaged boys.

Peter wasn't willing to offer himself as bait for the sicko and Edward had nixed the idea first thing, but it was something he was aware of. Cyrus liked teenaged boys with dark hair and athletic builds, and while he'd been careful not to kill or turn any of his victims, an undead rapist was a nightmare worth stopping.

The parents of four of his victims had pooled together the money for the bounty. The police-issued warrants against Cyrus could only claim his charges of breaking and entering and failure to appear in traffic court. And he'd only gotten the B&E charge because the sister of his last attempted victim had called the police before he'd made it all the way through the doggy door.

Everyone knew what Cyrus Muldondy had done and investigators were desperately looking for evidence, but he was a smooth operator. Cyrus had a trust left from his grandfather, the ability to cloud his victims' minds, and there was suspicion that he'd had an accomplice in the police--someone willing to clean up the evidence enough that the case against him had disappeared like smoke.

Considering his own experiences--and he tried his best not to--Peter wanted to see Cyrus Muldondy on the wrong end of an execution. A monster like that didn't deserve to be walking around free, and definitely not for forever.

"Are we sure this is his lair?" Peter asked. He wanted to whisper, but he forced himself to sound normal. All the vampires were sleeping for the day, closed up tight in their coffins.

"So they say," Edward said. "The vamps hire out daylight security to the werehyenas, so we don't want to get in a scuffle. We've got an appointment with their oba and need to treat things civilized-like."

"And if she doesn't want to help us?"

" He . Narcissus is a special case. We'll talk to him nicely, and if that doesn't work ..." Edward shrugged.

Peter stared up at the tall apartment building. All the windows were blacked out, and from what Edward's notes said, they were bricked up on the inside.

Cyrus had rented him an apartment in the vampire boarding house equivalent of Fort Knox. The walls were reinforced, the windows were decorative, the fire suppression systems were state of the art--Cyrus' money was protecting him. No one was going to attack the building without drawing down too much police attention to handle.

It made Peter's chest hurt to think that a complete scumbag could hide away from what he'd done just because he had a ton of money. It didn't seem right.

"Maybe I should play bait," Peter said.

He jumped when Edward's hand landed on his shoulder. "Not going to happen. Come on. Let's go get dressed up to meet the hyenas."

Knowing Edward's dislike of all monsters, Peter didn't say anything. He walked back to the truck and tried not to think of Cyrus getting away with his crimes.

"Don't dwell," Edward said. "We need to be focused when we face the werehyenas. They're able to smell weakness."

"I know," Peter said.

Edward started the engine with a twist of the wrist. "Now isn't the time to get lost in your head."

"I know," Peter repeated. And he did know. He'd heard the lectures before. He knew how dangerous lycanthropes were--he'd watched his dad die at the claws of a raging werewolf, lesson learned--but this whole Cyrus Muldondy situation was pressing his buttons.

Peter leaned his head against the passenger door and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths and forced away the nightmare memories that wanted to creep into his mind. (Hands on his hips, muscular thighs closing around him, the sharp tang of feminine arousal, hands clenching around his throat while tears seeped out of his eyes.) The fear never completely went away.

His counseling sessions had ended with the deaths of his mother and sister. He'd gone on the road with Edward, and being a monster killer felt a bit like coming home. Still, there were times when he thought he wasn't handling the aftermath of his rape as well as he could. Like when he thought of Cyrus Muldondy and all he wanted to do was set the man on fire, quench the flames, then burn him again, over and over, until not even vampire healing could bring Cyrus back.

Peter took deep breaths and tried to fill his mind with calm.

It was okay to hunt and kill the monsters--it was something that needed to be done for all those people that couldn't otherwise get justice. But he couldn't let himself give in to the hurt and rage. He was Edward's partner, and sloppiness would not be tolerated.

He didn't want to be sent home alone.

He didn't want to be alone.


	5. Five

There was a thrill in doing something he wasn't supposed to. Even knowing that Jean-Claude had probably worried before the sunrise knocked him out, Xander was having too much fun to care. Besides, he was sure that he could be apologetic enough that Jean-Claude would forgive him. He'd do that thing with his mouth.

He'd heard that it was better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.

"Why are we here?" Nathaniel asked nervously. He'd kept close to Xander's side from the moment they'd stepped through the door.

"Why wouldn't we be?" Xander grinned at a werehyena he recognized and let a little green flash in his eyes.

They'd traveled the sewers to reach Narcissus In Chains, and Xander had half a mind to yell at some city planners. The sewers of Sunnydale had spoiled him for comfort. In comparison, St. Louis was a disgusting rat infested warren of stink. He was thinking about throwing away his shoes once he got home.

"Master Xander, if you will follow me," a handsome blond werehyena said. He was bare chested and there were still hints of glitter on his skin. He had a name tag clipped to his pants pocket that read "THESEUS. Assistant Manager."

Xander raked his eyes over the guy. Narcissus had good taste in man-meat. "Lead on."

The club was empty at this time of the morning, the doors closed to the public. There was a skeleton staff pulling clean up duty before they went home to their beds.

He and Nathaniel had used the secret storage room entrance Narcissus had shown him. His skin still felt a little hot and tight from the ten foot run he'd made from the sewer grate to the back door, but he hadn't burst into flames so it was all good. The look on Nathaniel's face as he'd used his leather jacket as a sunshade had made him laugh. It was one of the tricks he'd learned from Spike. Leather was one of the best materials for blocking out vampire destroying sunlight, which was why so many Sunnydale vamps made it part of their wardrobe.

Having a severe weakness to sunlight and living somewhere called "Sunnydale" meant every day involved a bit of risk. But it had been the place where he was born and raised. The home where he'd lived and died and risen again. He missed it.

Xander didn't push Nathaniel away when the wereleopard nuzzled close against his back. The vampire part of him wanted to beat the shit out of the guy just because, but the rest of him recognized Nathaniel as being pack. He could smell his scent markers against Nathaniel's skin and it calmed his inner monster.

They followed Theseus up a set of stairs to the second floor apartment and Narcissus' private office.

"I've never seen a glass doorknob in real life," Xander said.

"It's real crystal. I had to special order it," Narcissus said from behind the large desk, looking up from the laptop open in front of him. He wore an incongruous pair of thick-framed glasses that Xander couldn't resist grinning at. He'd always had a thing for sexy nerds.

He prowled close to Narcissus' desk, raking his eyes over the werehyena. Narcissus was careful not to meet his gaze in any way that could be construed as a challenge. Not that Narcissus was cowed--Xander wouldn't have liked him as much if he were that easily subdued. There was a sly slant to his lips.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Narcissus asked.

Xander leaned his hip against the edge of the desk. He examined Narcissus closely, liking what he saw. "You haven't slept yet?"

"I've got a bit more work to do." Narcissus pointedly looked at the red curtained window, the light glowing around the edges. "Isn't it a bit early for you? The sun's up."

Xander shrugged. "Surprise. Any vampire hunter that comes after me won't like what they find. Though the challenge will be fun."

Narcissus pursed his lips, but didn't say what he was thinking. Instead, he took a sip from the glass of water in front of him and signed a few more pages. "What brings you to me, dear Alexander?"

"Curiosity," Xander said. "Boredom. A few questions that wouldn't mind some answers. You can take your pick."

"Questions, then," Narcissus said, laying his ballpoint pen down with a faint click. He rested his hands together and looked up at Xander. "Is there something you would want me to do for you?"

"Oh, lots of things." Xander leaned closer, nostrils flaring as he scented the air around Narcissus. He blinked and drew back in surprise. "You're pregnant."

"Yes."

"How did that happen?" Xander asked. He knew Narcissus had some extra bits, but he'd figured the guy would be a stickler for birth control. Shifter pregnancies weren't exactly the safest thing around, mostly for the baby, though there was some risk to the mother.

Narcissus gave an elegant shrug of his shoulders. "I felt that it was time. My position is well settled in the city. The number of my hyenas means that things are secure enough. So when my biological clock started ticking... I took it as an opportunity to answer."

"Hm." Xander took a big sniff of that ripening scent. It made his mouth water and there was an urge to bite, but a deeper instinct spoke to him of pack and strength. Cubs were a hassle to deal with in the moment, but they represented strength and prosperity in the long run. Plus, he'd never met a born werehyena yet. He was a bit curious.

"Well, good on you, then," Xander said, "breeding the next generation of werehyena royalty."

It had been impossible to see how tense Narcissus had gotten until he suddenly relaxed. The man would make a devastating poker player.

"When are you due?" Xander asked.

Narcissus stroked his stomach once before settling his hands back on the desk. "Six months. I will need to get my affairs in order beforehand, as I would like to spend the first few weeks after birth bonding with the baby."

"Let me know if you need any heads cracked." Xander grinned, a sharply unpleasant expression. "You know how I love a bit of violence."

"Thank you for the offer. I will keep you in mind if I need someone's head cracked." Narcissus glanced at Nathaniel. "I see you brought a pet with you. And from the scent on him, I can tell that you've been enjoying yourself. Doesn't he belong to Anita Blake?"

Xander shrugged. "Not anymore. Nathaniel belongs to me now."

Narcissus raised a sculpted brow, but refrained from saying anything. Xander was almost disappointed and sat on the desk, carelessly pushing Narcissus' paperwork out of the way.

"Is this what you do with your time?" Xander asked. "I was expecting there to be more orgies."

"Perhaps in another hour or two," Narcissus joked.

Xander wagged a finger at him. "Don't you set me up for disappointment, now. You wouldn't like me when I'm disappointed."

"I'll try to remember that," Narcissus said. He lifted his pen, but seemed hesitant to start working. He'd seen enough to know that Xander hated being ignored and wouldn't hesitate to ruin all of Narcissus' hard work.

Xander rolled his eyes. "What am I, a child? I'm not going to ruin your paperwork." _Not when it's something you're expecting. I'll have to find some other bit of fun to indulge in_. He gave Narcissus a sweet smile to prove his sincerity. Narcissus looked doubtful, but went back to his work.

After a few minutes, a bored Xander slid off the desk and slunk over to the couch against one wall. Narcissus was polite enough to offer comfortable seating to the entourages of his guests. That or he enjoyed having sex in his office and liked a pleasant place to do it. Either way, the couch was comfortable, and once he'd pulled Nathaniel down next to him, Xander had no problem closing his eyes and curling on his side, Nathaniel cradled against his chest like a living teddy bear.

He drifted to the scritching sound of Narcissus' pen against the paper. He brushed his hand down Nathaniel's hip, stroking the wereleopard as if Nathaniel had his fur on.

Xander had always had a skill for finding his own entertainment and for not letting much of anything get to him. A good hunter was a patient hunter, and Xander had taught himself to be one of the best.

Narcissus was always at the center of exciting things. All Xander had to do was wait a little while, and the fun would come to him.

Xander smiled sleepily and let Nathaniel nuzzle close against him.

He was confident that when he next woke, there would be all kinds of exciting games to play. He trusted Narcissus to find him some fun playmates.

.

Lazing on the couch in Narcissus' office while things happened around them, it was oddly soothing. Xander was reminded of the best part of being the Master's favorite--always being in the thick of things and being the first to know the juiciest gossip.

He grinned to himself, pressing his face against Nathaniel's auburn hair. The wereleopard was deeply asleep, his trust in Xander endearingly foolish. It would be easy to snap that slender neck. Nathaniel wouldn't even wake up to know what had happened.

There was a light rap against the office door, then the voice that Xander now recognized as Ganymede, one of Narcissus' wereleopards. "Sir, there's a bounty hunter, Ted Forrester, to see you. He says he has an appointment."

Narcissus sounded amused. "Well, well. I didn't think he would really come. By all means, bring the bounty hunter to my office."

Xander was intrigued. What did Edward want with Narcissus?

He shifted closer to Nathaniel and oh-so casually slung his arm over the other man, his hand incidentally shading Nathaniel's face from view. Then he let his body go limp as if asleep and waited for the fun to start.

In his few dealings with Edward--which mostly comprised of him messing with the man and being an asshole--he'd realized that whenever Edward showed up, the fun quotient went up as well. _Especially_ when Edward had non-Xander related business, which this appeared to be (otherwise Edward would be firebombing the Circus, not making easily traceable appointments with Narcissus. The "Ted" persona was only brought out for serious business).

There had been a time in Xander's life where he'd daydreamed of being a manhunter. The fantasy had somewhat come true in unexpected ways, but he'd wanted to be more like Lorenzo Lamas in "Renegade," not a literal manhunter. Though he didn't have any complaints about his current life. Souls were overrated anyway. Just look at what had happened to Angelus, that sad wreck of a vampire.

Xander swallowed down a giggle. There were times where he missed playing with the Puppy. He had screamed so pretty.

There was the sound of the door opening and the shuffle of footsteps. Xander recognized the scent of Edward--gun oil and what might be napalm--but there was also the alluring scent of young hunter. Edward had brought his little apprentice, how fun.

"To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your company?" Narcissus purred.

"We're hunting a bail jumper," Edward said, using his Ted-voice. The vowels were thick and the consonants rolling, giving him an "aw shucks, let's be friends" charm that was completely at odds with the usual Edward. Hearing that accent made Xander want to chew the man's face off just because he could.

"None of my people have been arrested, so I don't see what business you have with me," Narcissus said.

"It's not one of yours. He's a vampire from New Mexico that's hiding out in a room at the Havenshire," Edward said. "We don't want to cause too much damage, so I thought we might see about coming to some sort of agreement with you. Maybe get some muscle on our side for when we face him."

"Some of my muscle," Narcissus said.

"Yes."

"Hm. As I know you don't have much fondness for the 'monsters,' as you call us, I have to wonder why you would think I would help you. Why would I risk my people to help you deal with someone that's completely helpless during the daytime? That is your favorite time to strike your victims, isn't it? While they are sleeping and helpless."

"The Havenshire has excellent daytime security, as you well know," Edward said. "Otherwise we would be happy to handle things alone."

Narcissus sounded amused. "My people receive quite a lot of money to provide the security for the Havenshire. Why would I risk such a lucrative contract with the vampires for you?"

"Because we'll be going after Cyrus Muldondy and it will go better if you help us."

Narcissus laughed. "You certainly are confident in yourself."

"I find that confidence is one of the few things the _monsters_ respect," Edward said.

"Hm. You've got me listening at least. Tell me why you think that I would help you."

"Because no matter what anyone says about you, you have no fondness for pedophiles, and that's exactly what Cyrus Muldondy is."

"Why aren't the local police--particularly RPIT and Anita Blake--handling things? Isn't he the type they usually go after?" Narcissus asked.

Edward made a growl of frustration. "Muldondy has managed to slip through the cracks with his money and his ability to hide his crimes. Everyone knows what he's done, but the law can't touch him. He hunts young boys and the police haven't been able to stop him because he's a vampire and he thralls his victims. They actually help him hide the evidence of his crimes. All the police could charge him with was breaking and entering."

"And I'm supposed to trust that you're telling the truth? I know who you are, _what_ you are, Mr. Forrester. You have no fondness for _monsters_ and you don't tend to bring them peacefully to justice. You kill them, without a warrant or an order of execution. You're a murderous thug, _Mr. Forrester_. I can smell the blood clinging to your skin."

The "Ted" faded from Edward's voice as he spoke, the accent smoothing away. "If you know me, then you know what I can do. Your contract with the Havenshire won't mean a whole lot if I decide to go in. You can smell if I'm lying. I _will_ be taking Cyrus Muldondy, and I won't let your people stop me. Am I lying?"

"I don't think you're lying," Xander said cheerily, sitting up on the couch. Nathaniel, who had woken and remained quietly still as the room went tense, slid off onto the floor. He had learned to stay out of the line of fire.

"You're awake." It was like magic, the way the gun appeared in Edward's hand. From Narcissus' expression, someone was going to receive a stern talking to about the proper way to check someone for weapons.

"Surprise," Xander said, spreading his fingers in jazz hands.

"What are you doing here? You should be in your coffin." Edward was doing a good job of hiding his complete and utter shock. Peter needed to learn from his mentor how to control his expression--he looked like a startled baby, his mouth forming a little "o" of surprise.

"Aw, aren't you happy to see me Eddie? I'm happy to see you. And you're here for such a fun reason." Xander grinned, showing nearly all of his teeth. He liked the way Edward's pupils contracted into pinpricks and Edward's breath came fast. Xander thought he could smell the man's fear, and it was a rich perfume.

Edward had shown up to request aid from Narcissus, and instead he'd had his worldview rocked. It gave Xander a devilish rush of delight. He always liked being the unpleasant surprise no one expected to appear.

"So, you need some help handling a vampire pedophile, huh? That sounds like fun times all around." Xander grinned.

"What are your thoughts on immortal pedophiles? Please share," Edward said, getting his expression back under control.

Xander missed the bug-eyed shocked look. He wished he'd taken a picture, as Edward nonplussed didn't happen very often.

"I've never been a friend of child rapists," Xander said. "There's been a few of them that ended up on my wrong-side and each one of them learned a very valuable lesson." He met Edward's eyes and saw the understanding there. He also couldn't help wishing that he had the eye-mojo of the local vamps, as he would have had a clear shot at rolling Edward's mind. Too bad for lost opportunities.

"You would really go after one of your own kind?" Peter demanded. From the momentary pinch of Edward's brow, Peter was most likely supposed to have kept his mouth shut and stayed in the background.

Xander smiled at the boy, a not-quite polite baring of the teeth. "Do you really think anyone around here is my own kind? They're fun play toys, but I am definitely in a class of my own. As they say, 'The weak are meat the strong eat.'"

"And in that scenario you're the guy that eats everyone around?" Peter ignored Edward's gestures to be quiet. He stared at Xander's chin, curiosity and fascination fighting to overtake his practiced stoicism.

The kid was stubbornly brave but brittle. Xander knew he could break him. It was a battle not to mentally shatter him and play with the pieces.

"I'm a predator for every moment of every day," Xander said. "The minute you forget what I am, that's when I get you."

He stared into Peter's eyes and let some of what he was bleed through. The color drained from Peter's face and he swallowed convulsively, the air around him filling with the realization of fear.

Xander slowly smiled at him, all seductive charm except for his eyes. He let the monster stay in them, enough for Peter to clearly see what he was dealing with.

"I'm going to help you with your little pedophile problem," he said. "But don't you ever forget what I am. Or I'll eat you alive."

He liked the boy, but at the end of the day he was a demon. And sometimes liking a human wasn't enough for him to put aside his nature. Things got away from him. And humans bled so pretty.

He turned his smile on Edward, all charm and teeth. He was sure that they would come to understand each other.

"We are going to have such fun together. They might never find all of the pieces." Xander laughed.


End file.
